"The atmosphere does not seem so bad now," said Morton. "I suppose it was the contrast with the pure air above."
"It was getting light to the eastward when I came down just now," returned Brown; "we had better wait for full daylight—half an hour cannot make much difference."
"It might make all the difference," replied Morton; "however, I suppose there is no help for it."
At that moment there was a sudden cry from above.
"Wonder what's up?" said Morton, scrambling back. "Hang it all!" he exclaimed as he laid hold of the surcingles and they came tumbling down, showing that the blacks above had let go of them.
Presently they were heard jabbering at the edge of the hole, and Morton shouted to them and threw a coil of the surcingles up. Apparently they understood what was wanted, for the line tautened once more and Morton scrambled up, and then assisted Brown. The dawn was rapidly breaking, and the blacks, pointing to the candle Morton still held in his hand and then towards the memorable cliffs, chattered volubly.
"They must mean that they saw a light in that direction," said Brown. "It's too light for us to see now."
"Shall we go over there or investigate this hole?"
"They must have seen something by the start they got; perhaps we had better go there first."
Accompanied by the two natives, who led the way by a path known to them, they made for the shattered cliff which they had hoped never to see again. As they approached it an awful odour, evidently stealing through the cracks from the bodies rotting beneath the collapsed roof, made itself disagreeably evident. The blacks kept on talking to one another, as though discussing what they now saw for the first time. Arrived at the place, the white men mounted on the piled-up debris, and both together shouted with the full strength of their lungs. To their delight a distinct answer was heard from beneath their feet, evidently no echo.
"It's Charlie's voice!" cried Morton delightedly. "Where are you?" he yelled.
"Here!" came the voice, right under their feet.
"In the old cave?" asked Morton.
"No, but close to it; there's a vile smell here."
"How did you get there?"
"Came underground. Do you think you can get us out here, or must we go back again to the crater?"
"The blacks saw your light, so there must be a big gap somewhere. Have a good look round, it's sunrise now."
There was a silence for a while, then Charlie's voice sounded a little further off.
"There's a big crack here, but too narrow for us to get through."
The men above went in the direction of the sound, and soon found the fissure.
"It would take dynamite to shift this one," said Brown, putting his hand on the huge boulder that formed one side of the rift.
Morton knelt down on the flat rock that formed the opposite side and put his hand into the crevice.
"Hurrah!" he shouted, "this is only a slab; the four of us can shift this, I think."
So it proved. The four, with one unanimous pull, managed to partly upraise the limestone slab, and Morton adroitly kicked a big stone underneath which kept it in position. Charlie was now able to crawl out, followed by Billy.
"Here, take a swig of this before you say anything," said Morton, mixing some brandy and water in his pannikin.
Charlie took some and handed the remainder to Billy, who looked particularly scared.
"How long have you been cruising about in the bowels of the earth?" asked Brown.
"Since the night before last, or early yesterday morning. I did not go down the deep hole when I first came here, because I had promised to be careful. I went down the first one, and then got some dead leaves from the old bottle-tree camp, lit them, and threw them down. By the light we could see that there were no sides to the hole—it seemed as though it had been punched in the roof of a tunnel. However, we found a place at last where some boulders were piled up, and I thought that, with Billy's help, I could get down on to them. I did so, and found that I could get from there on to the floor of the place without any trouble. I came back for Billy, and he was being helped down by Columbus, when suddenly there came a most awful sound, half a shriek and half a sigh, which so frightened Billy that he must have let go, for he came tumbling on top of me, and the two of us dislodged the boulder, which was not very firm to start with. Fortunately we were neither of us hurt, but Columbus must have thought we were killed, for he cleared out—"
"And came straight back to us, luckily," interrupted Morton.
"When I found that he was gone," went on Charlie, "I thought we could get back again by piling rocks up to stand upon; but there were no small ones, they were all too big for us to shift. We waited there, and shouted, and called, and every now and again we heard that sigh—"
"We heard it as well," said Morton.
"Billy shook with fright every time, and nearly made me as bad as himself. At last I made up my mind to explore the passage we were in; but I had a great job with Billy, for the passage led in the direction the sound came from, and Billy conjured up all manner of horrors. Luckily I had the packet of candles with me when I came down, so we had plenty of light."
"Was the air bad?" asked Morton.
"There was a funny damp smell, but the candles burnt well, and we felt no bad effects. The passage was smooth enough underfoot but not very high, so that we had to stoop; but we came to occasional places where we could straighten our backs. The noise kept getting louder, until at last Billy with his terror got to be such a nuisance, that when we got to where there was enough space I put my candle down and gave him a good punching."
Here Brown and Morton burst out laughing. The idea of Charlie, down in the blackness of a subterranean passage, thumping Billy to keep his own courage up, was too original.
"Presently we came to where the passage branched, and along one came the noise, now a regular bellow. Nothing could induce Billy to go along that one; he threw himself on the ground and let me kick him, but he wouldn't budge."
"Were you very anxious to go yourself, Charlie?" asked Brown.
"I had to keep up appearances," returned Charlie modestly. "We started along the other passage, and presently it began to ascend, and was littered and partly blocked with boulders; finally, after much trouble and squeezing, we got up to where you found us. It was dark when we got there, but I knew by the fresh air coming in that there were some cracks somewhere leading to the upper world, and I guessed by the smell that we must be in the neighbourhood of the old cave. We went back a bit and lay down to sleep, and when I woke up we came here again so as to be ready to try and get out at the first dawn."
"Thank goodness it's all over," said Morton; "for I've had a rare fright, and Brown and I have been travelling all night. However, we won't go back without investigating the mystery of the noise."
There was still some water lying about in the rock holes around the crater, so when they returned they set to work and got breakfast ready.
Charlie thought with them that the strange noise was made by an escape of water or air, both from the regularity of the sound and its peculiar nature.
Investigation of the Mysterious Noise—The Trip South—Natives Exterminated—Stuart's Initials Found.
As soon as the meal was finished, Morton, Brown, and Charlie descended the hole, but Billy declined the invitation extended to him. By the aid of the surcingles they climbed down into the passage already traversed by Charlie and Billy, and which appeared to have been an underground water-course at the time when the boiling springs were at work.
At last they arrived at the branch passage from whence came the mysterious noise, and along this they proceeded cautiously. Suddenly across their path extended a black chasm, bringing them to a stand-still. Testing the ground carefully, they crawled to the edge and looked over. The darkness was intense, but on holding the candle out, a tiny spark was reflected down below, as though from the surface of a sheet of water. Suddenly this disappeared, and the loud sigh, or, as Charlie had called it, "a regular bellow", came up from the pit. This died down, and they heard a repeated swishing noise, like water splashing against rocks. Morton inverted his candle so as to get the wick well alight, and then dropped it down the hole. They watched it falling for some time ere it struck the water with a distinctly audible hiss.
"By Jove! it's a long way down there. I don't think we need stop here any longer unless Charlie wants to go down."
"No, thanks," said Charlie, "my curiosity is quite satisfied."
They retreated as cautiously as they had advanced, followed by the melancholy roar from below.
"It's the water that makes that noise," said Brown. "The water down there is evidently still in a disturbed state, and is regularly set in motion, and rushes up some sort of a blow-hole."
"Do you think it has any connection with that hot swamp and lake down south?"
"Without any doubt; perhaps we shall find that lake all burst up when we go down there."
They retraced their steps, and, by the aid of the surcingles held by the blacks above, emerged once more into the open air. They rested most of the day, and started back to what they now considered their main camp as soon as the evening grew cool.
Columbus and the other four blacks were there, and everything as they had left it.
"That was a smart trick," said Brown.
"What was?"
"In our hurry to start after Charlie, we left the journal and the copies we had made lying loose in the tent. If the grass had taken fire, or the niggers looted the camp, we should have lost all our work."
Morton whistled.
They rested one day, and then made an early start for the south. They had rigged up a makeshift saddle for Columbus, and, as they travelled slowly, he was able to get along fairly well. They reached the swamp about the same time as before, and at first noticed no change in it. On penetrating it, however, they found that it was not so boggy as formerly, and on mounting the tree they had already climbed, they saw that the water in the lake had fallen considerably, and the fringe of reeds was drooping.
"Do you think all these fine trees will die if the water dries up?" said Charlie.
"They may. But as their roots go down to a great depth, I should think they would hold on a good many years yet."
Next morning Columbus indicated the track they had come upon before, and they soon had left the swamp behind them. The country was exceedingly monotonous, there being no break in the forest until about four in the afternoon; then they suddenly came to a creek, and the country began to improve, and better grass was apparent. At the first water they came to they camped for the night. Columbus intimated to them that the creek they were on and the one where they had been camped were the same, and as the characteristics were similar, they concluded that he was right, and that the creek had re-formed again. Columbus also informed them that they would now follow the creek, and that there was plenty of water all the way. On inquiry, he said that they would reach the mountain in two days.
On the evening of the second day they got into broken country, although it was still well grassed, and the creek had largely increased in size. From the crest of one ridge they passed over, Columbus pointed to the mountain now visible in the distance.
Next day the country was much rougher, and the creek ran through a succession of gorges. The mountain was the highest point of the broken country, and the creek swept round the base of it.
Morton called Brown's attention to the fact that all the native camps they passed were of old date, and that no fresh tracks were visible. At last they reached an extent of open country lying at the foot of the mountain, which rose aloft in a peak. On the bank of the creek were some ruined humpies, built of mud and sticks, after the manner of the Cooper's Creek natives. In the creek was a long water-hole, apparently of great depth. Human bones and skeletons were strewn about the camp. Evidently a wholesale massacre had taken place some years back.
"Those cannibals must have wiped the whole tribe out the last time they were here," said Brown.
"If they have served the tribe to the westward the same way, they would have had to live on one another shortly."
After unpacking and hobbling the horses, they made a thorough investigation of the place to see if any trace of Stuart still existed, but they saw nothing to lead them to suppose that a white man had ever been there.
Columbus, on being appealed to, pointed to the hill, which was scarcely a quarter of a mile away. On going over to it they found what appeared to be a crude kind of barricade built of stones, a work that none of the party had ever before seen done by natives. This was the only indication they found that evening. The next morning early they ascended the hill, and from the top had an extended view all around. They were evidently on the highest point in that part of the continent. To the south and east it appeared to be one vast ocean of scrub, without a break to the horizon. They could trace the course of the creek for some short distance, then it apparently died out and was once more lost. Westward the scrub was broken into belts and patches, until it merged into a wide gray plain, to which they could see no end but the sky-line. Northward was the broken country they had passed over. The mountain was of granite formation, and on a smooth boulder they found some initials plainly chipped on the surface: "C. N. S. 1861".
"Stuart was here, then, right enough. I wonder whether he went on from here."
"He never got into the settled districts at any rate, or we should have heard of it."
Columbus, who had accompanied them, shook his head when asked about the country to the south and east. He made a gesture like a man falling down dead, by which they understood that it was impassable, so that the probability was that Stuart had perished in his attempt to make into civilization.
Brown struck a match and lit his pipe.
"We have come to the end of our tether in this direction," he said.
"I wonder how the lake bears from here," replied Morton. "I suppose the cannibals have a track from the great rock out to it, but if Stuart got down here on foot we ought to be able to find our way across on horseback."
Columbus, on being questioned as to the direction of the lake, pointed north, the way they had come.
"That's a way the niggers have," said Brown. "They always point to the last place they started from; they have no idea of direction. When we got back to the old camp he would point some other way."
Columbus professed entire ignorance as to any means of reaching the lake, except by going back the way they came and starting on the road he knew. Morton and Brown, however, decided on trying to go straight across from where they were.
They devoted one day to a trip down the creek, which they found was entirely lost in sandy, scrubby country. No further sign of Stuart's presence was found anywhere, nor could anything be discovered to lead one to suppose that any of the natives had survived the massacre, although Columbus had evidently expected to find some still living.
Calculating the supposed situation of the lake as due west from the rock, they reckoned it would be north-west from where they then were. If that course did not bring them to the lake they would probably come across some indication which would lead them to it.
The first part of their journey was through the belts of scrub they had seen from the hilltop. It was principally hedgewood, and greatly delayed their progress, and it was late when they at last emerged upon the edge of the plain. The grass was fairly good, but there was no water for the horses, and from what they had seen there did not seem much prospect of getting any early the next day. In fact, it was past noon before they had crossed the plain and gained the timber on the other side of it. This was open forest, and in a clear space, some mile or two on, they came to a dry lagoon. In the shallow bed was an old native well, and on clearing this out and deepening it, a very fair supply of water came in. Watering their now thirsty horses took some time, as all the water had to be drawn from the well, a billyful at a time, and poured into a trough extemporized from a waterproof sheet. The supply, however, came in strongly, showing there was a good permanent soakage. There was fine feed about the lagoon, and everybody felt satisfied with the prospect ahead.
Columbus seemingly knew nothing of the country they were then on, so that the cannibals had evidently stuck to one particular track when on their periodical man-hunting expeditions.
In the Spinifex Desert—Arrival at the Lake—The Remnant of a Tribe.
The next morning when they started the forest country still continued for many miles, until they at length came to another broad plain, and a couple of hours before sundown sighted some timber nearly on their course. This proved to be a double line of gutta-percha-trees, with a broad flat between them. The trees grew on low banks of sand, on which were countless quantities of tiny shells; the whole had the appearance of a shallow water-course, but the bed was covered with blue-bush. The two lines of trees stretched on like a limitless avenue, and as it followed much the same course as that they were travelling, they proceeded along it. They passed one or two empty holes, with a ring of polygonum bushes, dry and withered, around the top of the bank. It grew late, and as everything still bore a parched appearance Morton pulled up for a consultation.
While discussing the best thing to do, a flight of galar and corrella parrots passed overhead, flying in the direction they were going, and evidently making for their nightly drink. This put new life into everybody, and they pushed on once more. At dusk they were rewarded by coming to a somewhat deeper hole than those they had passed. There was, however, only sufficient water for their wants in the bottom, and it was fast drying up, and could not be depended on for their return journey.
Next morning they still kept on along the avenue of gutta-percha-trees, and Morton began to hope that it would turn out to be one of the water-courses supplying the lake. In this, however, he was disappointed, for the trees grew fewer in number and further apart, until they passed the last one, and before them stretched once more a boundless plain.
The country now suddenly changed for the worse; the ground was sandy and covered with the detestable spinifex, and both Morton and Brown felt rather doubtful as to going on, for there was no knowing how far this desert might extend.
However, they made up their minds to proceed, as there was really nothing else to do. Then commenced one of the weariest rides they had yet experienced during the trip. It was even worse than the scrub. The prickly needles of the spinifex irritated the shins of the horses, so that it was with great trouble the pack-horses were urged along. Hour after hour went on, and still there was no change in the unbroken horizon that bounded them.
"I should fancy those old cannibals found it mighty rough on their shins if they had to cross a belt of desert like this," said Brown.
"I expect they kept it burnt down on the track they used to patronize," replied his friend.
"Fancy what the feelings of poor hopeless Stuart and his companions must have been when toiling through this waste."
"Yes. If we find it bad, what must starving men on foot have found it?"
That night fell on them still in the desert. They had an ample supply of water for themselves in the canvas bags, but their horses had to go both hungry and thirsty.
"Things begin to look rather queer," said Morton, as they prepared to start.
"Yes, it's a case if we don't get out of this by to-night."
They had hardly mounted, when Billy and Columbus gave a mutual exclamation, and pointed to the westward of their track. A curious looking dark mass was travelling swiftly along just above the horizon. Suddenly it dipped down and disappeared.
"Hurrah!" shouted Brown. "Flock pigeons going in for their morning drink. That must be the lake."
Much elated, they pressed eagerly on in the new direction, the horses seeming to understand what was ahead as well as their masters. The spinifex now began to grow scantier, and patches of grass appeared in its place; the earth changed from red sand to good chocolate soil, and before them stretched a very large expanse of downs, well grassed with Mitchell grass and other good grasses.
Suddenly and unexpectedly they crossed the crest of an imperceptible rise, and before them lay the goal of their hopes. Unanimously they halted and gazed at the locality where the man, whose journal they had read, had passed many weary years of exile.
No fairer scene could have been found anywhere in the interior of Australia. A blue expanse of water, apparently some miles in length, lay outstretched before them. The low sloping banks were verdant with grass, kept green by the soakage from the lake. Great gnarled coolibah-trees of immense girth grew round the water's edge, and the gently rising downs on either side were studded with clumps of the beautiful weeping myall and shady bauhinia trees. At the end of the lake nearest to them was a small hill crowned with great gray boulders of granite.
"After all, there must be something in the influence of surroundings," said Morton. "The natives living here, are, or were, according to Stuart, a gentle and friendly tribe, whilst those living amongst the barren rocks alongside of that boiling spring were about the biggest devils I ever met."
"How about Columbus?" asked Charlie. "If there are any natives left, won't they try and kill him?"
"No doubt they will make it pretty sultry for him, but he seems quite cheerful over it. He has put the onus of the whole thing on our shoulders. He must take his chance."
They rode on in suppressed excitement, hoping against hope that Stuart might still be there.
"What's that ahead?" suddenly cried Morton.
The object when approached turned out to be the bald, dried, half-decomposed body of a blackfellow.
"This is some of your men's doings, my friend," said Brown, glancing at Columbus, who grinned complacently.
The sides of the lake were firm and hard, and the thirsty horses ran eagerly in and commenced drinking greedily. Overhead the white correllas and pink and gray galars chattered noisily amongst the boughs, on the opposite side a group of objects like native gunyahs were visible. When the horses finished drinking, they rode round the edge of the lake to them.
Not a sound was heard, and nothing was seen to move as they approached the spot, nor was any smoke visible. Gorged carrion crows and hawks arose as they drew near, and flapped unwillingly away; the crows protesting loudly at being disturbed, after the manner of their kind. Two or three eagle-hawks gazed fiercely down from the branches of neighbouring trees. A pestilential smell hung heavy in the air, an odour soon accounted for, for around the ravished camp lay at least a score of corpses, all in the same stage of decay as the one they had first passed on the plain. These appeared to be mostly old men and women, although here and there the smaller bodies of children could be seen amongst their slaughtered parents. Brown and the others drew a long breath as they gazed on this scene of murder.
"What a blessing it is," he said, "to know that all those wretches who did this are crushed into jelly underneath tons of rock."
"Yes," replied Morton in a low voice; "and for two pins I could find it in my heart to send that hoary old sinner there to keep them company."
This sentiment was a common one, and Columbus received some very savage glances, even Billy looking at him, and handling his carbine as though anxious to use it on the blackfellow. The old cannibal, however, was quite unconscious of the feeling he had aroused, and smiled sweetly as though he was showing them a highly interesting little exhibition.
"They must have killed and captured the whole tribe," said Morton at last. "No hope of finding Stuart now."
"I am afraid not. We had better look out a camp as far to windward of these poor wretches as possible," returned Brown.
Just then Billy whistled, and when his master looked towards him, he indicated by a motion of his head the direction of the hill with the granite boulders on it.
A thin column of smoke was stealing up from the back of it.
Morton whispered hastily to Charlie to take Billy and ride round the foot of the hill to the back of it, leaving the loose horses feeding about on the green grass at the edge of the water.
He and Brown rode straight over the crest of the hill, and underneath them saw the mockery of a camp. A wretched remnant, who had escaped massacre, they found huddled together near some rocks. Two old men, about half a dozen gins and children, and one young fellow, badly wounded. Too startled and frightened to attempt flight, they gathered timorously together. Their fear seemed augmented when Charlie and the black boy came up.
Brown dismounted and walked up to them. At once a cry of surprise and pleasure broke from the old men. They commenced jumping about, shouting and laughing uproariously. Instantly it flashed across the minds of the whites that they were mistaken for a reincarnation or resurrection of their countrymen who had formerly lived here. Morton and Charlie left their horses and joined Brown, when the conference was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of a riderless horse. A difference of opinion had arisen between Columbus and his steed when the others left him alone, which resulted in the discomfiture of the native, who now followed limping after his horse.
The old men recognized their enemy at once. They stamped, raved, and spat at him; and one, picking up a spear, drove at him with such vigour, that only a nimble jump saved Columbus from being transfixed. For his part he returned their vituperation with interest, and the gins joining in, a perfect tempest of words ensued. Seeing that nothing could be done until they were alone, Morton told Charlie to go and round up the pack and spare horses, and, with Billy and Columbus, to take them some distance up the lake and camp on the bank, where he and Brown would join them.
Once their enemy was out of sight the blacks quietened down, and one of them commenced a voluble speech to Brown, addressing him as "Tuartee", from which it was evident that their first surmise was correct. After some trouble they made the natives understand that they were not going away, but were going to make a camp at the lake. They promised to return shortly, and rode away to join Charlie and Billy.
Everybody enjoyed a good swim in the lagoon, and ate a hearty meal afterwards. Brown and Morton then strolled back to interview the blacks.
The Fate of Columbus—Investigation of the Cave—Stuart's Grave and Recovery of the Conclusion of his Journal.
Their approach to the camp was greeted with cries of "Tuartee", and they endeavoured to make the old men comprehend that they wanted to be shown the cave. Apparently, however, the blacks, if they did understand, thought that their guidance was quite unnecessary to a returned spirit, who ought to know all about it. They imitated the gestures made by the whites, and pointed with infinite politeness the same way that they did, but that was all that could be got out of them.
As they were both tired after their long and dreary ride, they determined to start on an independent search the next morning, and after giving the blacks some trifling presents they returned to camp. That evening they enjoyed a meal of fine fish caught in the lake. It was plain that some days must be spent in the neighbourhood, in order to thoroughly investigate the caves, and find out if possible the fate of Stuart.
"Well, we are here," said Brown, as he made his bed down that night, "but I'm hanged if I know exactly how we are going to get back again."
"No, we shall have to make a mighty long dry stage, for that last hole we were at will be dry by to-morrow."
"I think Stuart must have got across some other way."
They were soon all sound asleep; as no danger was to be apprehended from the poor wretches at the camp at the hill, no watch was kept. Towards morning Morton felt himself gently shaken by the shoulder; looking up he saw Charlie bending over him.
"I'm sure there's somebody prowling around the camp," he whispered. "I felt that funny feeling one feels, you know, of the presence of something not right about the place. I was woke up by a sound like a blow, or a stick breaking."
Morton sat up, looked around, and listened. All appeared peaceful and quite enough. The fires had burned down, and the light of the stars alone illumined the scene. The sheet of water alongside was unruffled, and reflected like a mirror the thickly-studded sky overhead. Not a sound could be heard, not even the cry of a night-bird or water-fowl. For some moments they both remained silent, listening, then Morton said in an undertone:
"Must have been fancy, Charlie. There can be nobody here but those poor wretches over the hill."
"No, it was not fancy," answered Charlie. "I am sure there was somebody moving about. You know I would not have roused you had I not been certain. Listen!"
Loud cries suddenly arose in chorus from the camp of the natives.
Brown started up.
"The devil!" he said, after listening. "That old Columbus at his cannibal tricks again. See if he is there, Charlie."
Billy and Columbus had made a separate fire, round which they were sleeping, coiled after the manner of blackfellows. Billy, aroused by the outcries which rung out clearly and distinctly in the still night air, now struggled to his feet, half asleep.
"Here's Columbus," said Charlie, giving the prostrate chieftain a good kick. "Wake up, old man!" he cried.
Columbus never stirred.
"There's something up," said Charlie, drawing back with a shudder.
Morton struck a match, as did Brown.
There was indeed something up. One glimpse was sufficient. Columbus lay dead, his skull shattered with a two-handed club which had been left beside his body. The shouts of the blacks were tokens of rejoicing at the return of his executioners with their work accomplished.
The whites gazed at the dead man in silence, and each felt slightly cold at the thought of the ease with which the whole camp might have been disposed of.
"Retribution!" said Morton at last. "He deserved his fate, but I can't help feeling sorry for the old villain. Billy, my boy, supposing that fellow had made a trifling mistake and tapped you on the skull in the dark."
Billy shook his head as though to make sure it was quite sound.
"No good this one country," he replied; "mine think it go back alonga station."
"Billy, your remarks, as usual, are to the point, and chock-full of sound sense," remarked Brown. "But we shall all feel better when the sun jumps up. Let's make the fire burn and have breakfast. It's not far off daybreak."
By the time the meal was finished the first rays of the sun were just visible. Charlie and Billy were sent after the horses, with instructions to remove the camp to one of the clumps of timber some short distance back from the lake, and then to take Columbus' body to where the victims of his tribe were lying—there they could moulder in company. Morton and Brown started in their search for the cave, taking the camp of the natives on their way. The killing of Columbus was only a just act of tribal vengeance. They did not intend, therefore, to let it interfere with their friendly intercourse with these natives, from whom so much valuable information might be obtained.
The blacks evinced no fear when they came to the camp, and greeted them in the most friendly manner. Not wasting any time in fruitless attempts at intercourse, the two men set out on their search. They were fortunate at the outset. They selected the two most imposing boulders, which seemed to answer best to the description in the journal, and on nearer approach a well-worn pad proved that they were on the right track. Squeezing through the narrow aperture described by Stuart, they found themselves in the cavern confronting the gigantic figure painted on the roof and side. Prepared as they were for the startling appearance of this form, they could not repress a certain feeling of awe as they gazed at it, and recognized at once that it was not the work of any Australian aborigines then existing on the continent.
A movement behind made Morton hastily turn round. One of the old men had silently followed them, and was standing a few paces away. Seeing Brown look curiously around after the first survey of the figure he advanced, and beckoning to him, led him to the side of the cavern where the light from a crevice above fell strong on a certain place. There, on the rock, had been carved with care this inscription—
"CHARLES NEIL STUARTCAME HERE, 1849.DIED ——"
Then followed a date, scratched with a feeble hand, which they made out to be "1870".
With uncovered heads the two friends gazed sorrowfully and reverently at the resting-place of their unfortunate countryman. Although they had never really anticipated finding him alive, a feeling of sincere regret was uppermost at discovering their worst forebodings realized. They would have given much to have been in time to bring succour to the poor lonely man by the side of whose grave they knew they were standing.
The native again advanced, and putting his hand into a crevice in the rock drew forth a package, done up in the dried skins of some small marsupials, and furthermore protected by a casing of bark. This he gravely handed to Brown, who took it from him, but refrained from opening it at once. After a short scrutiny around, resulting in no further discoveries, they left the cave. Resting on the first convenient rock, they proceeded to inspect the precious parcel. The contents consisted of an old-fashioned double-barrelled pistol, a powder flask, a bullet-mould much dented and battered, and a roll of loose leaves of paper covered with faded writing. Together they pored over these leaves, which contained the conclusion of the castaway's life. They were in much better order than the contents of the pocket-book originally discovered, not having been subjected to such rough usage, and the narrative ran on without a break. The contents explained the presence of Murphy amongst the cannibals, the loss of the pocketbook, &c., and recorded Stuart's futile attempt to escape to the south, his meeting with the now exterminated tribe who lived at the foot of the mountain, and his return after repeated failures to penetrate the scrub and sand which cut him off from the settled districts. A gold discovery was also recorded.
They went back to their new camp, meaning to spend the rest of the day in copying out the journal, so as to insure its safety as much as possible. Morton dictated the narrative to Brown and Charlie, who made separate copies. Thus ran the story.
The Continuation of Stuart's Journal—The Slaughter Chamber.
I am now alone, and I know not whether my comrade is living or dead. It was a year after Kelly's death—by my reckoning, which I have kept by notches on a rock in the cave—that I went with three natives to a scrub about ten miles from here to get a peculiar kind of wood I was looking for to make bows of. For now that I had made up my mind I would never be rescued, I thought I would try to teach the natives the use of the bow and arrow, and we would lead them against this tribe whom they dreaded so and who killed Kelly, and perhaps obtain peace. There was no wood suitable near the camp, but from the description given by the blacks I thought I could obtain what I wanted in the scrub indicated by them. There was water there, and we stopped two days, cutting and dressing the saplings so as to make them lighter to carry in, for as we only had stone tomahawks it took a long time. On the evening of the second day we heard a gin wailing and crying in the distance, coming towards us. The blacks stopped their work and ran to meet her, crying out in the same tone. I knew something was wrong and followed them. It was sad news, awful news! The Warlattas, as the hostile tribe was called, had attacked the camp at night, had killed and wounded many, and carried off a number of prisoners—amongst them Murphy, who was a heavy sleeper and had no chance to defend himself. I knew that these Warlattas were cannibals, and that the prisoners they took away were probably eaten.
"We got back to camp in the middle of the night, and the next morning I tried to get the men who were left to follow me after the cannibals, but they were all so cowed they wouldn't, although I showed them the pistol and fired it off. I tried to track the enemy by myself, and if I could I would have followed them, but I lost the tracks and nearly died of thirst. The Warlattas had taken nearly all the few things we had saved, including my pocket-book; these few sheets I am writing on were picked up about the camp.
"1853.—That is my reckoning. All this time I have written nothing, as I wanted to husband my paper, and I had little heart after Murphy was taken away. I made the blacks build a place with stones—a sort of barricade to sleep in at night,—and it was lucky I did, for the Warlattas came again; but, thanks to the barricade and my pistol, we beat them off without losing a man, and now the natives have great confidence, and I think will beat them again.
"I often tried to get them to follow me to where these people lived, as I thought Murphy might be alive and I could rescue him, but they seemed to be horribly frightened at the thought and refused always. On examining the bodies of those that had fallen, I found them all marked the same way with some sort of pigment, a red smear on the forehead and a white triangle on the breast. This, and something in their appearance, led me to consider if there was not some connection between the figures in the cave and this strange people. Thinking long over this, I explored the cave thoroughly, both it and any in the neighbourhood, and finally it led me to the strange discovery that has caused me to write my journal once more, in the faint hope that some day it will be found and read by civilized man.
"Searching around the cave containing the painted figure, I found an aperture which apparently ran for some distance. It was on the ground, the rock coming to within about two feet of the sandy floor, and on stooping down it seemed to me that I could feel a current of fresh air passing through. On inquiry I found that none of the blacks had been into the opening, as they had a superstitious dislike—scarcely, however, amounting to dread—of the cave. The aperture was too low to easily admit me, so I got a slim young fellow to explore it. He soon crawled back, saying there was another big cave beyond, but too dark to see anything. I got some more boys up and set them to scoop the sand away until the opening was big enough for me to pass in. We took fire and bark and wood with us, and when we emerged in the gloomy cavern beyond we immediately kindled a fire. As the blaze arose and illuminated the recesses of the cave a shriek of terror burst from my juvenile companions, a wild cry of "Warlatta! Warlatta!" and in an instant they disappeared like a bevy of black rats underneath the rock where we had entered. I looked around in surprise, but soon divined the cause; on the opposite side appeared, drawn in white on the wall, a large triangle, the sign ever associated in their minds with murder and rapine.
"Heaping more wood on the fire, I advanced and examined the surroundings. Underneath the triangle was a huge block of yellowish-white sandstone, but its purity was marred by a horrible reddish stain which marked one of its sloping sides. Its purpose flashed on me at once—in some old time it had been used as a sacrificial stone. The fire now blazed up merrily, and I had ample light for my researches. The smoke disappeared through crevices in the roof, and the ventilation seemed excellent. Marks of old fires were visible all over the floor, which was of white sandstone with the same reddish stains visible in places. Searching more minutely I found in one corner a knife or dagger, made of steel (since then I have found it to be tempered so skilfully that the edge can scarcely be turned by the hardest rock). The handle, if it ever had one, had disappeared through age. In addition, there was a broken ring of the same metal, seemingly part of a chain, and on the walls were characters in red, but of no written language that I could remember. This was all that I saw on my first visit.
"Voices at the opening told me that the natives had recovered from their fright, and were in search of me. I called to them, and emboldened by my voice and the firelight some of them crept in and joined me. I found out that they had no knowledge of this chamber, and in hopes of finding another I set them hunting round for any more openings that might exist, but none could be discovered. Whilst so engaged one of them brushed against the stone altar, and immediately it commenced rocking, whilst a squeaking, piercing scream, like a human being in intense agony, thrilled us all with horror. The blacks threw themselves on the ground, and it was a few moments before I could summon up courage to approach the stone and examine it. The rocking was gradually ceasing, and the shrieks grew fainter as the motion ceased. The stone I found to be most beautifully poised, so that the slightest touch started the oscillation. As to the machinery that produced the screaming noise, that I could not investigate without capsizing the stone, which evidently weighed some tons. For a moment I shut my eyes, and seemed to see once more the hideous drama that must have been many times enacted in this chamber of death—the savage priests, the manacled victim, the streaming blood, the trembling captives, and the harsh shrieking of the rocking stone adding its awful voice to the groans of the dying man and fading away into silence with his last cries. What horrible ingenuity had devised such added terrors to the scene? By degrees I got the blacks out of their fright, but it was amusing to see the celerity with which they disappeared as soon as I gave the signal.
"1862.—I have made a great effort to escape, but am forced to come back here to die. The blacks had told me on two occasions that rather to the west of south there was water within reach of a long day's journey; but as this was only leading me further into this uninhabited wilderness, I had never had the curiosity to go there. It now struck me that from there I could possibly get round the end of the great sandy desert, and perhaps find an easy road back to the settlement, which must have pushed out towards me since I have been buried here. I had succeeded in teaching the blacks the use of the bow and arrow, and to build tolerably safe huts to sleep in. The Warlattas had attacked us twice since the first time we defeated them, and on both occasions had suffered great loss, whilst we had not a man wounded. For years now they have not dared to come, and I think the bows and arrows have frightened them. Moreover, my natives have no longer the terror of them they had formerly, and feel confident in repulsing them. Under these circumstances I felt that I could venture to leave them, for I did not like the idea of their becoming once more a prey to this horrible Warlatta tribe. One of the old men who had been to the water before, and a fine young fellow named Onkimyong, accompanied me. I fully explained to the blacks what to do if the Warlattas turned up again, and promised them soon to return; for if I succeeded in getting away, I meant to come back with a party to thoroughly examine the caves and root out the Warlattas for good. Strange, the blacks have no repugnance to going anywhere west or due south, but to the eastward they will not go.
"Our journey during the first day was over treeless country well grassed, although at times we came across patches of the prickly grass, proving that we were not very far from the edge of the sandy desert. We did not reach the water that night, but as we had brought a couple of coolamen[1] full, we did not trouble to press on. Next morning we arrived there early in the morning and found it a long narrow lagoon, the water being of a milky colour. Around this lagoon were many camping-places of the natives. I asked the old man if he knew this tribe, and I found that he had met some members of it once; they were friendly, not like the Warlattas."
[1] Vessels chopped out of the soft wood of the coral-tree by the natives; and used for carrying water in the dry country.
Continuation of Stuart's Journal—A Hopeless Situation.
We stayed at the lagoon all day, and in the evening, fortunately, a party of the natives came in. They were timid at first, but the old man and Onkimyong could make themselves understood, and they gradually gained confidence. They had never seen a white man before, although I am now pretty well burnt black by the sun. My two natives showed off their bow-and-arrow shooting with great pride. They told the others how the Warlattas, who seemed to have turned their attention to the new-comers also, had been beaten off and killed.
"These natives explained that they lived on a creek to the south-east, and when I heard that I made sure that I should at last escape. When the old man found out where they came from and that I intended to accompany them, he would not go any further, and nothing could induce him to alter his intention of going back. Onkimyong, however, who was very fond of me, and being young had not so much superstition, said that he would stay with me and go wherever I went.
"The blacks were on a hunting expedition, and had come to the lagoon on purpose to fish; so we remained there a few days and the old man returned to the lake.
"When we started we went to the south-east, and the country rapidly changed its character, becoming scrubby and barren. That night we camped at a salt lake, obtaining some water, slightly brackish for drinking, from a native well dug some distance back. Next day our course was through wretchedly poor and barren country. When we rested for a time I noticed an outcrop of quartz; my position in the party had ostensibly been that of geologist, and I went over to examine it, for before we left there had been some vague rumours that gold had been discovered in the southern part of the colony. I broke up some of the stone with a large one, and found that it was auriferous. This discovery did not elate me in any way. If I had found a mountain of gold, of what value would it be to me?
"Continuing our journey we reached water again that night, apparently a small soakage spring. The blacks told Onkimyong that we should camp at a small creek the following night with some brackish water in it, and that the next night there was water in a clay pan, and the following night we should reach their main camp. This proved to be the case, and we found their home to be on the bank of a fine creek, running round the foot of a tall hill. I now looked upon my escape as secure, for surely this large creek, well defined and supplied with water, must run down south to settled country, and I could follow it easily. Alas! I was doomed to disappointment!
"The Warlattas had not been seen for some time, and, unluckily for them, they selected the second night after our arrival for an attack.
"It was brilliant moonlight, and the blacks were holding a corroboree in our honour, when one of the gins shrieked out that the Warlattas were on them. The fire-sticks were visible coming on swiftly, and they had evidently reckoned on taking the camp by surprise. I had been very careful of my ammunition, but I thought I could spare one charge. I called to Onkimyong, and told him to tell the blacks not to be frightened; then, as the Warlattas approached, shouting and yelling, I fired straight at them. The effect was instantaneous—the onslaught stopped at once. It must have completely surprised them to find themselves suddenly confronted by me in this new place. Before they could recover from their surprise Onkimyong and I were at work with our bows and arrows. This completed the rout, and they turned and ran; Onkimyong shouted to the natives and rushed in pursuit, followed by some who had recovered from their terror. I did not go with them, but I think they did good execution.
"There was great rejoicing over this defeat of their enemies, and I felt very glad that the attack should have been made when it was. Seemingly, since we had beaten them off at the lake they had devoted all their attention to this poor tribe. The next day I ascended the mountain, and from the top saw that in the direction I wanted to go there was nothing but a vast scrub. The creek, too, seemed to disappear soon after passing the mountain; and this I soon found out was the case. It ran completely out in a sandy waste of scrub. The blacks asserted that it never re-formed, and that there was no water either to the south or east, and that nothing lived there but snakes. I tried over and over again but always had to return, half dead with thirst and fatigue. One old man said that he had heard of a big rock down south where there was a hole with water in it. But this I imagine was only a tradition, as from the top of the hill I could discover no sign of it, and wherever I penetrated I found always the same arid and barren scrub and sand. Being thus disappointed in my efforts south and east, I thought that I might follow the creek up and come to some available strip of country. Judging by its direction the creek, if it headed far enough away, must be east of the prickly grass desert.
"As the Warlattas always came down the creek I could not induce one of the natives to accompany me. Even Onkimyong was afraid to face it. With little care about my fate I therefore started alone. I followed the creek for a long distance, finding it well watered, and that a beaten track ran beside it. This turned off, and on following the creek further I found that it ran out; I therefore returned and followed the track. In course of time this led me to a swamp of great tea-trees which it skirted. After following this swamp half-way round the track left it and went amongst some rocks. They were basaltic, and in a short time they closed in in a perfect wall and I lost all trace of the track I had been following. Again and again I tried to find it, but the rough basalt cut my feet to pieces and the track could not be followed over the rocks. I had to rest for a time to get my feet well, and fortunately there was plenty of game about the creek, which apparently re-formed on the northern side of the swamp. I now determined to follow this creek up again, and did so, until at last it died out in a desert forest. At one place I saw a number of trees marked, apparently by the Warlattas. I made several excursions east of the creek, but I was always confronted by a dense and impenetrable scrub."
"Poor fellow!" said Brown at this point. "Fancy his being so near his companion Murphy and yet to miss him."
"I can well understand his inability to get along through those basalt rocks, but I don't understand how he did not see the Warlattas' track at the lagoon of the marked trees."
"If you remember," replied Brown, "the track was not very plain close to the lagoon."
"I had at last to give up in despair" (went on the journal), "and make my way as best I could back to the mountain. How long I was away I cannot say, for I lost count. It seemed to me weeks, but I think it was about a fortnight.
"I was now thoroughly convinced of the hopelessness of my situation, and determined to return to the lake and finish my weary life amongst the tribe there, devoting my time to teaching them what I could.
"Onkimyong was delighted to see me back. I rested for some time, as I had two or three things to do before leaving. One was to show the natives how to build a stone barricade, and the other was to inscribe my initials in some place where it was bound to be seen by any whites who might hereafter come. I selected a place at the foot of the hill for the barricade, and set the blacks to work, under the superintendence of Onkimyong. From its position and altitude I concluded that any whites coming to the place would naturally ascend the hill to obtain a good survey of the surrounding country; I therefore inscribed my initials and the date of the year on a rock on the summit, doing the work with the aid of the knife I had found in the cave. I lingered on for some time longer in the hope that the Warlattas would make another attempt, and this they did the night before we were going to leave.
"Fortunately their approach was discovered in ample time, and I had my men all concealed behind the barricade. The Warlattas approached very cautiously, not with the confidence of their first attempt. We allowed them to come pretty close, and then commenced to play on them with our arrows. As soon as I saw them waver and halt, I gave a signal agreed upon, and the natives swarmed out and attacked them with their clubs and spears.
"There seemed to be no hesitation this time, with one accord the Warlattas fled. The pursuers did much more execution than the first time, as they had a better start. I hope now the Warlattas have received another check.
"Onkimyong and I started back the next day, we followed our tracks back again, as I felt curious about the gold-bearing reef. When we came to it I examined it thoroughly, and I then found that it was, what seemed to me, of fabulous richness. I laughed aloud. Here was I with a fortune at my feet, and it was of no more value to me than worthless flints. It was the very mockery of riches!
"In time we arrived at the lake, and met with a great welcome, as they had given us up as lost. I had been in fear that the Warlattas, finding I was away, might have attempted another assault, but they had not put in an appearance.
"I have now quite relinquished any hope I had left of finding my way back by my own exertions, and can only pray that some other exploring party with better fortune may come here before I die."
Conclusion of Stuart's Journal—Examination of the Slaughter Chamber—The Ancient Australians.
I have made no other discoveries since my return, and all the efforts I have spent in trying to decipher the inscriptions have been in vain. I can only conjecture that these relics are of great antiquity, and that the belief and some of the rites, notably cannibalism, survive amongst the Warlattas, who are mixed and degenerate descendants of the ancient race. I have very little paper left, and that scrap I must keep for any necessity that arises. If anybody finds this let him take a copy of the inscriptions, for there may be some men in the world who can decipher their meaning.
"1865.—I have devoted myself to bettering the condition of this tribe, whom I may say I have adopted. I have taught them to build better huts, and clothe themselves partly in skins. The Warlattas' inroads have been absolutely stopped. They have learnt to cultivate yams here, and some of the young men understand written signs. One thing I could not induce them to do with all my influence, that is, for a party of them to go east with me and find out the track by which the Warlattas cross the sandy desert. Some superstitious feeling I cannot overcome will not allow them to do this.
"I might have done much more, but latterly I have been nearly crippled with rheumatism. I have instructed the natives to bury me in the cave under an inscription I have cut—my name and the date of my arrival. When I feel myself near my end, unless I die by accident, I will try and inscribe the last date on the stone, it will stand for my death year. If my companions had lived, we might have worked our way back to the settlements, but alone—it was hopeless to attempt it. I know my end must be near, nor am I sorry, for I have outlived all hopes of succour. I thank God that though I have lived so long amongst these savages, I have not sunk down to be one of them in their habits, but rather have taught them better things. To the white man that finds this I leave the greeting and the blessing I would have given him in life."
. . . . . . . .
"What would I not have given to have got here in time to rescue him!" said Brown. "He was a man worth saving."
MORTON AND HIS PARTY EXAMINE THE SLAUGHTER CHAMBER.MORTON AND HIS PARTY EXAMINE THE SLAUGHTER CHAMBER.
Next morning they took some more presents to the natives at the hill, and the old men went round with them and showed them the roofless stone huts, the dismantled barricade, and the remains of other improvements now all in ruins. The death of Stuart seemed to have been a signal for a return to their old habits of life, his stay amongst them not having been long enough to make a lasting impression.
Even the bows and arrows had disappeared; and it was evident that the Warlattas had resumed warlike operations with a success resulting in the almost complete extermination of the tribe. Morton endeavoured to explain to them that their enemies were dead, but it was doubtful whether the old men comprehended him. An immediate incursion into the inner cave was determined on, and, provided with candles, the party soon found themselves at the opening. The sand had worked in and somewhat blocked up the space, but this was soon sufficiently removed to enable them to wriggle underneath like snakes. Half a dozen candles served to brilliantly light up the inner chamber, and there, with startling distinctness, shone out the white triangle over the sacrificial stone. Brown started the stone rocking, and immediately the shrill, half-human screams echoed through the cave, much to Billy's discomfiture. No examination could detect the trick that caused the sound, nor could the presence of the stone be accounted for except as a most singular freak of nature.
"I have it," said Morton at last; "the stone was part of the rock and has been cut away underneath. It must have been an awful job, but that is how it was done."
"And about the squeaking machinery?"
"That's more than we can find out without shifting the stone, and that's a job I am not on for unless we stop here a month or two and chip it in pieces."
"A charge of dynamite would shift it; and next time I go exploring I'll carry some," replied Brown.
"What do you think the thing was made for?" inquired Charlie.
"Well, I've just had an inspiration," said Brown. "You know amongst some nations it is a matter of religious belief almost that you must make your enemy howl when you have got him down. Now, perhaps some of the poor devils who were cut up on this stone declined to sing out, or fainted, or for some reason did not furnish amusement enough—the stone was set rocking to fill out the programme. What do you think?"
"I think it most likely, and is an instance of devilish cruelty on a level with their other proceedings."
"I suppose poor Stuart searched this place so thoroughly that we need not expect to find anything fresh," said Charlie. "But we may as well have a look. Billy, you have got sharp eyes, just use them."
While these two were investigating the walls and floor, Morton and Brown took a careful copy of the hieroglyphics and a sketch of the cave, showing the position of the sacrificial stone and triangle. By the time they had finished they were ready for their mid-day meal, and returned to camp for it.
"There's no doubt," remarked Morton, "that what we have just seen are relics of an ancient people, but what I can't understand is, why, if they were civilized enough to wear dresses, and to have a developed religious belief—savage as it was—" ("No worse than the Carthagenians," interjected Brown), "to know how to obtain iron and temper it, that they did not build permanent buildings, the ruins of which would remain?"
"Mud, my dear fellow, mud," replied Brown. "Remember the nations who have disappeared off the face of America, and can only be traced by their pottery and burial mounds. Why, the gorgeous cities of ancient Mexico were built of mud bricks, which go back to their mother earth, once the domiciles they form are abandoned."
"But their smelting-works for manufacturing iron?"
"There you have me. But we must try and find that knife; perhaps they buried it with Stuart."
"Billy got something from one of the old men, but I don't know what it was," said Charlie.
"Billy! What old man bin give it?" asked Morton.
Billy grinned, and produced from the inside of his shirt the knife mentioned in the journal. It was a curious-looking blade about a foot long, broad and somewhat curved. Even after the work Stuart had done with it in carving on the rocks, it was as sharp as an ordinary knife.
"That's a Malay weapon," said Brown, after examination. "Whoever our ancient Australians were they came from the north. I suppose we must wait until we get the writing deciphered, if there is a man clever enough to do it."
Looking closer, they found that the blade had the mysterious triangle engraved on it. This constantly recurring symbol led to much speculation as to whether they were not an offshoot of Freemasons, who in some remote time had wandered into central Australia; but as Charlie ingenuously reminded them that these fellows had not built anything, the theory had to be discarded.
"What's to be done next?" said Morton. "I'm for going to find Hentig's grave, if possible, and recovering the papers buried there."
"Yes, and then go back round by the way Stuart went to the mountain tribe and track up the gold reef."
"Not a bad idea, anyhow. I think it will be the safest way to go home."
That afternoon, Billy, with the aid of one of the old men, found a canoe not far below the surface, and brought it up and bailed it out. Then it transpired that on the last onslaught of the Warlattas they had sunk all the canoes. The one recovered was a large one, fitted up with outriggers, and leaked but very little. Charlie soon improvised a mast by lashing two spears together, and with a blanket for a sail announced himself ready to face the dangers of the deep. Morton agreed to join him in his voyage of discovery round the lake the next morning, but Brown preferred to stay and continue the investigation of the cave drawings.
Next morning there was a gentle breeze blowing, and Morton and Charlie were soon afloat and off. Brown wandered over the hill, telling Billy to try and make the blacks understand the catastrophe of the burning mountain.
Several lesser caves attracted his attention, but only one seemed to promise any result. To this one he devoted himself, and after some trouble found some inscriptions resembling the former one in character, but differing in the arrangement of the letters. In this case they were placed perpendicularly in two parallel lines.
After copying the inscription, Brown stood in thought for some time, mechanically thrusting a yam stick he held in his hand into the sandy floor of the cave. The soil over the bed rock in this cave was apparently only a few inches in depth, but suddenly he was roused from his reverie by the yam stick going down more than a foot without meeting with any opposition. Sounding hastily, he soon found that a trench extended at right angles to the rock, immediately under the inscription. Going outside he shouted loudly, and Billy and some of the blacks came running up. He set them to work to clear all the sand away from the trench and its neighbourhood with their hands, and it was soon visible artificially cut in the rock. It was about three feet long and a foot broad, so the work of clearing it out did not promise to take long.
With so many hands going, the depth of three feet was soon reached without anything being discovered; then the fingers of the workers came in contact with something hard, and very soon a sheet of metal was disclosed, cut exactly to fit the hole. Brown at once recognized it as resembling the gongs used at the burning mountain. Greatly excited, in spite of his usual assumption of calmness, Brown inserted the point of the yam stick under the metal and prised it up.