Title: The secret of the Australian desert
Author: Favenc, Ernest
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.

*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The secret of the Australian desert" ***


[Transcriber's note: This book contains words that may be offensive
to modern readers.]



[Illustration: Cover art]



[Frontispiece: THE LAST OF THE BLOODTHIRSTY WARLATTAS.]



  THE SECRET

  OF THE

  AUSTRALIAN DESERT


  BY

  ERNEST FAVENC

  Author of "The History of Australian Exploration",
  "Tales of the Austral Tropics", &c. &c.


  WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY PERCY F. S. SPENCE
  AND A MAP



  LONDON
  BLACKIE & SON, LIMITED, 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C.
  GLASGOW AND DUBLIN
  1903



PREFACE.

Although the interior of the continent of Australia is singularly
deficient in the more picturesque elements of romance, it was, for
nearly two-thirds of a century, a most attractive lure to men of
adventurous character.

Oxley, Sturt, Mitchell, Kennedy, and Stuart have left deathless names
on the roll of Australian explorers, but the unknown fate of Ludwig
Leichhardt has always centred most of the romance of story about his
memory.

In April, 1848, he left Macpherson's Station, Cogoon River, situated
in the southern portion of what is now the colony of Queensland, with
the intention of endeavouring to reach Perth, on the west coast, the
capital of Western Australia, by traversing, if possible, the then
unknown heart of the continent.

From that day to this, no clue to the disappearance of the whole
party has ever been discovered.  Several expeditions have been
fruitlessly despatched in search of the missing men; and many false
reports as to the finding of relics of the party have been brought in
at various times.  Even the rapid advance of settlement, and the
comparatively full knowledge now possessed of the interior, have
thrown no light on the subject.  This, the great mystery of
Australian exploration, I have taken for the groundwork of my story.

The view I have adopted of the probable course pursued by Leichhardt
and his party, is the one that commends itself to the majority of
experienced bushmen.  Turned back by the dry country west of the
Diamantina River, the explorer probably followed that river up, and
crossed the main watershed on to the head of some river running north
into the Gulf of Carpentaria; in fact, the same track afterwards
followed by the ill-fated Burke and Wills.  Leichhardt could then
easily reach the route he pursued on his first expedition to Port
Essington, the only successful one he made, and on which his
reputation is based.  This course would then lead him around the foot
of the Gulf to the Roper River, where he would leave his old route,
follow the Roper, or a tributary, to its head, and strike south-west,
into the scantily-watered waste of the interior.  This view is borne
out by the fact that trees, marked with what appears to be a letter
L, have been found on or near this supposititious line of travel; and
A. C. Gregory, the leader of one of the search expeditions,
discovered the framework of a small hut, seemingly built by white
men, on a creek he called the Elsie, a tributary of the Roper River.

Another unexplained riddle I have introduced points to the possible
early occupation of Australia by an ancient and partly civilized
race.  In 1838, Lieutenant, now Sir George Grey, when on an
expedition in north-west Australia, discovered some remarkable
paintings in a cave on the Glenelg River, evidently not the work of
the present inhabitants.  He describes the principal one as--"The
figure of a man, ten feet six inches in height, clothed from the chin
downwards in a red garment which reached to the wrists and ankles".
The head of this figure was encircled by a halo or turban, and on it
strange characters were inscribed, like a written name.  Grey
says--"I was certainly surprised at the moment I first saw this
gigantic head and upper part of a body bending over and staring
grimly down on me".  Although the dress and accessories so plainly
prove that these paintings were not the work of the Australian
aborigines, the locality, strange to say, has not been again
investigated.  I have taken the liberty of transplanting these cave
paintings from the north-west coast to the interior, and also of
changing the names of some of the members of Leichhardt's party.  The
descriptions of the physical features of the country are faithful
records from personal experience.

ERNEST FAVENC.

SYDNEY, N.S.W., September, 1894.



CONTENTS.


  Chap.

  I. Sand and Scrub
  II. A Strange Road
  III. A Mysterious Procession
  IV. The Devil's Tracks
  V. A Lifeless Swamp
  VI. The Burning Mountain at Last
  VII. Cannibals
  VIII. The Fight in the Cave
  IX. An Exciting Discovery
  X. The Missing Expedition
  XI. Stuart's Journal
  XII. Charlie's Adventure
  XIII. The Trip South
  XIV. In the Spinifex Desert
  XV. The Fate of Columbus
  XVI. The Slaughter Chamber
  XVII. A Hopeless Situation
  XVIII. The Ancient Australians
  XIX. Charlie Falls Sick
  XX. A Further Discovery
  XXI. The Final Departure
  XXII. The Gold Reef Discovered
  XXIII. A Solitary Camp
  XXIV. More Dry Creeks
  XXV. The Last of the Cannibals
  XXVI. A False Alarm
  XXVII. Home Again



ILLUSTRATIONS.


They find the Devil's Track on the Rock-plain

The Death of Dr. Leichhardt in the Desert

Morton and his Party examine the Slaughter-chamber

The Last of the Bloodthirsty Warlattas, _Frontis._

Route Map



  THE SECRET OF
  THE AUSTRALIAN DESERT.



CHAPTER I.

The Start for the Burning Mountain--Sand and Scrub.


It is the beginning of November--November in the Southern hemisphere,
not the raw, foggy month of the North--November in Central Australia,
where the sun rises hot and red in a breathless morn, and sinks at
night in a heated haze, hovering around the level horizon.

It has been a day to doze in the shade if possible, and dream of
icebergs.  The short twilight is rapidly fading into the darkness of
a moonless night.  Scarcely darkness, however, for the brilliant
constellations of the south and the radiant evening star in the west
lend their rays to light up the scene.  Under the verandah of a rough
hut--mud walls with galvanized iron roof,--three men are sitting
indolently smoking the evening pipe that usually follows the last
meal of the day.  It is far up in the north of South Australia, in
fact almost on the boundary line that divides that colony from its
dependency, known as the Northern Territory.  The hut is the
principal building on a cattle-station, where, as on most other
outside stations, the improvements are of a very primitive kind.  The
three occupants of the verandah are--the owner of the station; a
young relation staying with him to gain that much-talked-of
commodity, "colonial experience"; and a friend, a squatter from a
neighbouring run.

"Well," says Morton, the owner, a sun-tanned, wiry little fellow,
addressing his neighbour, "what do you say, Brown, to having a look
for the burning mountain?"

"Umph!" grunts Brown, who differs considerably in size, owning as he
does some six feet two inches of humanity; "isn't this weather hot
enough for you without looking for burning mountains?"

"We've nothing much to do for two or three months, and I've made up
my mind to see if there's any truth in this yarn the niggers have."

"I never could make head or tail of it," said Brown.

"Nor I," returned Morton; "but although everybody puts it down as a
burning mountain, I am not of that opinion.  I have questioned them
very patiently, and can only find out that there is a big fire always
burning in the same place, but when I ask about a mountain, they say
no.  None of them have ever been there; they have only heard of it
from others, and they seem almost frightened to speak of it."

"They use much the same word for rocks, stones, and mountains."

"Yes; and I think it is rocks that they mean."

"What has your boy, Billy Button, to say about it?"

"Billy comes from a tribe nearly a hundred miles from here.  He has
heard the yarn, but has never seen any blacks who have been there."

"Let's see.  It is supposed to lie rather north of west from here.
How far have you been in that direction, Morton?"

"Some fifty miles.  It's all scrub and sand.  The niggers, however,
get across in some seasons of the year, and I think this is the time;
there have been plenty of thunder-storms that way lately."

"Well, I'll make one; a little scorching more or less does not matter
much up here.  You ought to have kept some of the camels back the
last time the team was up here."

"Didn't think of it.  But I fancy horses will be handier, we have a
thunder-storm nearly every day."

"And shall have until we start," replied Brown, "then you see they
will knock off at once.  How many of us will there be?"

"The pair of us, and--what do you say, Charlie?  Are you anxious to
distinguish yourself?"

"I certainly hope you won't leave me behind," returned his young
cousin, in an injured tone.

"All right.  Billy Button will make four, and that will be enough.
To-morrow we'll have all the horses in and get ready for a start the
next day."

"How long shall we be away?" asked Charlie, who bore upon his
shoulders the onerous duties of storekeeper.

"Can't say.  What do you think, Brown?  Six weeks?  Two months?"

"We surely ought to find something in that time, if it's only the
remains of Leichhardt."

"Make up three months' rations for four, Charlie; I hate to run
short.  Lucky we killed the other day, the beef will be just right
for carrying."

[Illustration: ROUTE MAP]

On an outside cattle-station, where so much camping-out has to be
constantly done, the preparations for such a trip do not take long,
and the morning of the second day found everything in readiness.
Brown had sent over to his place for his own horses, and they started
with fourteen in all.  Two apiece for riding, four packed with
rations, and two with canvas water-bags and the necessary blankets,
tent, &c.  At the last moment the blacks about the station tried to
dissuade Billy from going by telling him horrible tales of the fate
surely awaiting him at the dreaded burning mountain, but Billy
stoutly refused to be frightened, and scorned to remain, although
given the option by Morton.

The first thirty miles of the journey was over familiar country, and
they camped that night at a small water-hole lately filled by a
thunderstorm.  Beyond them now stretched a waste of sand ridges and
mulga scrub, into which Morton had once penetrated for some twenty
miles.  With full water-bags, and a determination not to be beaten
back without a struggle, our adventurers commenced the second day's
journey with light hearts.

During the whole of the day the sombre scrub and heavy sand
continued, without break or change in their depressing monotony.
Scarcely the note of a bird or insect broke the silence, as they
toiled on without much heart for conversation.  Towards evening a
piece of good fortune befell them.  On a small flat between two sand
ridges they crossed a patch of short green grass, the result of a
recent thunder-storm.  No water could be found, the hot summer sun
having evaporated all that had been caught in the shallow clay pans.
The green grass was, however, a boon to the horses, who did not feel
the want of water so much on the soft young feed.

Next morning they were saddled and packed up, ready to start by
sunrise.  About ten o'clock they ascended a sand ridge somewhat
higher than those they had formerly crossed, and from its crest they
were able to look around on the sea of scrub that surrounded them.
Not far off, in the direction in which they were going, Morton drew
the attention of his companions to a thin column of smoke.

"Burning mountain already?" queried Brown.

"Niggers travelling and hunting," replied Morton.  "The scrub looks
thinner there.  They won't be far from camp at this time in the
morning; but I expect the water is only a soak-hole, of no use to us."

In less than an hour they were riding over patches of still-burning
grass, thinly scattered through a forest of bloodwood-trees; but
neither the sharp eyes of Morton or Billy could detect a sign of the
hunters.  After searching for some time the boy found the tracks of a
blackfellow, two gins,[1] and some pickaninnies[2] coming from the
westward, and these they followed back for about a mile to a
freshly-abandoned camp.  It was situated on a fairly open piece of
country, partly covered with coarse drift sand.  Not far from the
camp was a ragged old shell of a gum-tree, covered with tomahawk
marks.  Billy, who had at once gone to this tree, gave a low whistle,
and the others came up.  He pointed to a small hole near the butt,
and dismounting put his arm down and then peered into it.


[1] Women.

[2] Children.


"Water long way down," he said.  "Gone bung, mine think it."  By
which they understood that the supply had dried up.  After some
searching about, a long sapling was procured and thrust down.  The
hole was about ten feet deep, and the end of the sapling brought up
some wet mud.

"How did the blacks get down for the water, Billy?" asked Brown.

"Pickaninny go down," replied the boy, pointing to a tiny foothold in
the side of the hole.

"Well, boys," said Morton, who had been poking the sapling down
vigorously and examining the point, "I don't see much to be got out
of this.  Evidently there's been one little family living on this
hole, and now they've been dried out.  It would take us two hours to
open up this hole, and then we should probably get nothing for our
pains."

"Water gone bung," repeated Billy.

"What do you say to following this flat?  It's going partly in our
direction, and may lead to something."

No one having anything better to suggest they resumed their journey
once more, until a mid-day halt was made.

"Well, respected leader," remarked Brown, after the meal was finished
and pipes were lit, "I'm afraid our horses will look mighty dicky
to-morrow morning unless we get them a drink to-night."

Morton glanced lazily at them, where they stood grouped under
whatever scanty shade they could obtain.

"They are beginning to look tucked up," he replied, "but we'll pull
up something before dark."

"I sincerely hope so," said Brown as he stood up.  "Go ahead once
more, Captain Cook."

About four o'clock the open flat which they had followed grew
narrower, until at last the scrub closed in entirely and they found
themselves confronted by a thicker growth than any they had yet met
with.  The mulga having given place to a species of mallee.

Morton, who was leading, stopped.

"We must push through," he said.  "It may be only a belt, and if we
start to follow it round we shall be all night in it."

"Right," replied Brown.  "I'll take a turn ahead if you like.  I
prefer being first in a scrub."

Morton laughed and dropped behind, and for about an hour very slow
progress was made, the scrub getting worse and worse.  The sun was
sinking low, and the cheerful prospect of a night in the scrub was
before them, when, to the relief of all, Brown suddenly called out:

"Hurrah! we're out of it!"



CHAPTER II.

A Native Cemetery--Billy's Explanation--Stopped once more by Dense
Scrub--Discovery of a Strange Road.


As the party emerged, one after another, from the scrub, their eyes
were delighted by a prospect of open-downs country before them,
dotted here and there with clumps of gum-trees.  But, better than
all, there was plainly to be seen, scarcely a short mile away, a line
of gum-trees, creek timber, whilst the presence of water was plainly
attested by flights of white corellas hovering about.

It was not long before the whole party were comfortably encamped
beside a good-sized waterhole, and the horses luxuriating on
succulent Mitchell and blue grass.

Brown, with his pipe as usual under full blast, was enjoying the
scene, when Billy, who had been wandering around the camp, came up
and remarked:

"No sleep here."

"What's the matter?" asked Brown.

Billy pointed to a patch of scrub a short distance off, and beckoned
to him to follow.

Brown noticed that the tops of the trees looked particularly thick
and dense, but it was not until he was quite close that he saw the
reason.  Nearly every tree of any size bore a rude scaffolding, and
on the top of every scaffold lay either a bleached skeleton or a
dried mummy-like corpse.  The ground, too, was covered with bones and
skulls that had fallen through.  Brown called the others, and they
gazed with awe at this strange sepulchre.

"I've often seen the bodies put in trees, but never in such numbers
as this.  Why, there must be hundreds here!" said Morton.

"I never saw more than two together at the outside," returned Brown.
"Strange," he went on, after a closer inspection; "all the bodies who
have any dried skin remaining on their foreheads have a red smudge
there!"

"No sleep here; by and by that fellow get up, walk about," insisted
Billy.

This remark helped to dispel the gloom caused by the sight of so many
dead bodies, and Billy had to undergo a good deal of chaff.  It was
evident, however, that his fright was genuine, although, like most
natives, the reason of it could not be drawn from him.

No ghostly visitants came near the camp that night, and all slept the
sleep of tired men.

Charlie, waking up before daylight and finding Billy in the sound
stupor common to the aborigines at that hour, conceived a wicked
idea.  Brown dabbled a little in sketching, and Charlie, after
hunting up the colour-box in one of the pack-bags, proceeded to paint
Billy's forehead red, after the manner of the mummies in the
tree-tops.

"Hallo, Billy!" said Morton, when they were all about and the
quart-pots for breakfast merrily boiling.  "What's up with your head?"

Billy grinned, not understanding what was meant.

"Look here," said Brown, taking a hand-glass out of the pack and
holding it in front of his face.  Billy looked, and turned as white
as it was possible for a blackfellow to do.

"Him bin come up!" he yelled, starting up and pointing to the scrub
where the bodies were.  Then looked apprehensively around, as though
he expected to see some belated corpse still walking about.

"Tell him you did it, Charlie," said Morton.  "I'm afraid you've
funked him, and if so he'll bolt.  Never play tricks on a
blackfellow."

Charlie at once complied, and after Billy had been induced to wash
the paint off and had inspected the colour-box, he was somewhat
comforted; but he evidently still thought that the subject was not a
fit one to joke about.

Struck by Billy's evident panic, Morton again attempted to extract
the reason from him, and after some trouble learned that he had heard
of the men with a red smear on the forehead, who were supposed to be
in some way connected with the burning mountain.  That, during the
day-time, they pretended to be dead, but at night got up and walked
about.

"This looks as though we were on the right track," said Morton to
Brown.

"Hum! Nice sort of company you are introducing us to.  However--Death
or glory! Let's saddle up and make a start."

In a short time the friendly water-hole and the ghastly scrub beside
it were left behind, but the patch of open country unfortunately
proved to be of very limited extent in the direction they were going,
and in a short time they found themselves again entangled in the
dense scrub, which was now becoming such a formidable obstacle to
their progress.  Towards the middle of the day, the sanguine Morton
began to despair of pushing on, even at the slow rate at which they
were going, and to meditate a return to their last night's camp and a
fresh start in a new direction.  At noon they were compelled to halt;
the desert hedge-wood had now made its appearance, and the barrier
presented by it was almost impenetrable.

They stopped for a hasty meal, and when it was finished, Morton said
to Brown:

"What do you say, old man?  Will you go north for a bit, and I will
go south, and we'll see if there is anything like a gap in this
confounded scrub?"

"My dear old boy I am entirely at your disposal.  But allow me to
suggest that we shall get along infinitely better on foot."

"I think so too.  Charlie, you and Billy stop here with the horses
until we come back."

It was a good two hours before the cracking of branches and muttered
bad language, coming from the south, announced to Charlie and Billy
the return of Morton.

"How did you get on?" was the query.

"Get on!" returned Morton savagely; "I did not get on at all.  I
don't believe I got half a mile from here.  It's the worst old-man
scrub I was ever in in my life; I've barked my hands nicely.  If old
Brown did not get on any better than I did, we shall have to go and
chop him out with an axe."

Almost as he spoke, Billy held up his hand and said:

"Mitter Brown come up."

In a few minutes his tall form emerged from the thicket.

"I beg to report, sir," he said to Morton with mock solemnity, "that
the main road to somewhere is about three-quarters of a mile to the
northward."

"What on earth do you mean, old man?"

"Just what I say.  After fighting my way through some of the most
awful scrub I ever met with, I came to a fine clear road--gas-lamps,
milestones, and probably bridges and public-houses."

"Well, we'd better go there at once.  I wonder you came back without
patronizing one of the pubs."

"I did not exactly see all that I have stated, but I have no doubt
whatever of their existence," returned Brown.  "Joking apart, there
really is a cleared track out there, but we'll have to cut a road to
get the horses there."

"This bangs everything into a dust-heap.  But it's getting late and
we had better shape.  Charlie, you and Billy go ahead with the
tomahawks, and we will dodge the horses along after you."

It took time, labour, and patience to make the distance indicated by
Brown; but about an hour before sundown, to the astonishment of three
of them, they stood upon what was evidently a cleared track, about
the width of an ordinary bridle-track.  Morton examined the stumps,
and pointed out that the work had been done by stone tomahawks.
Billy looked for tracks, but none had been made since the rain from
the last thunder-storm had fallen.

"It's running westward.  I suppose it's all right to follow it, but
this sort of thing beats my experience.  What say you, Brown?" asked
Morton.

"Forward, gentlemen, while the light lasts," was the reply of that
individual.

Their progress was now easy, for the track had been most carefully
cleared, and the horses, all old stagers, marched along in single
file without any trouble.  Darkness, however, fell, and the scrub was
still on either hand of them unchanged.

"Morton," said Brown, breaking the silence, "I've got an idea."

"Stick to it hard, old man; it's the first I ever knew you to
possess."

"Don't try to be too funny.  Well, I shouldn't be in the least
surprised to meet a first-class funeral coming along at any moment."

"You're worse than Billy."

"Billy was partly right.  Those old mummies, skeletons, &c., we saw
back there, have all been carted along this road from--wherever we're
going to.  That is the reason it is so carefully cleared."

"Jove! you're right.  And we might have come along this road all the
way if we had kept our eyes open, instead of tearing ourselves to
pieces in the scrub, travelling parallel with it."

"That view of the question did not occur to me, but it's a perfectly
feasible one."

"Rather a surprise for the mourners if we blunder on to them in the
dark to-night."

"Just what we want to avoid.  There's something ahead no white man
has yet heard of, and if we can sneak along without our presence
being suspected, so much the better."

"What do you propose?  We can't budge a step off the track just now,
and if unluckily there happens to be a funeral ceremony on to-night,
there's bound to be a collision."

"We must go on until we come to a piece of open country, and then
pull off and wait for daylight."

"All serene.  But our tracks will tell tales."

"We can't help that, unfortunately."

The conversation had been carried on without halting, and the march
now continued in silence, until a low whistle from Morton gave the
signal to pull up.



CHAPTER III.

A Midnight Halt--A Mysterious Procession--Sudden Dispersion and
Flight--Open Country once more and another Mystery Ahead.


As well as could be made out in the gloom cast by the scrub, they had
reached a small break in it, and Morton wheeling off, the others
followed, and the party dismounted, as the leader judged, some two
hundred yards from the track.  Morton gave his orders in low tones,
for the atmosphere of awe and mystery affected everybody.  There was
no grass, so the horses were simply relieved of their packs and tied
to trees; then the men stretched themselves on their blankets without
making a fire, and, save for the occasional stamp and snort of a
horse, the scrub was as silent as before the white men roused the
echoes.

Not for long.

It seemed to Brown that he had scarcely closed his eyes when the camp
was aroused by a distant melancholy cry.  No one spoke; all were too
intently engaged in listening.  The cry sounded again, louder,
nearer, and in a chorus of many voices.

"What bad luck," whispered Morton to his friend.  "One day sooner or
later and we would have been right."

Nearer and nearer came the plaintive wailing, and the gleam of
firesticks was visible.  It was a most uncomfortable sensation that
our adventurers experienced, lying prone and motionless in the gloomy
scrub listening to this weird procession passing through the desert
land.  They were well armed, and confident against any number of
aborigines, but the sights they had encountered were so much out of
the ordinary bush routine as to make even such old hands as Brown and
Morton feel slightly nervous.  Charlie was naturally much excited,
while Billy was "larding the lean earth" with the perspiration of
abject, superstitious fear.

The party of natives were now opposite to them, and not very far
away, and by the number of firesticks they judged that there must be
a good many in the company.  Every now and then the wild wail or
chant kept breaking out, and the shuffling noise of their bare feet
was distinctly audible during the silent intervals.

They had almost passed the hidden watchers, when the procession was
interrupted by a sudden and discordant shout from the leaders.  A
babble of voices followed, the firesticks gathered together for a
moment, and were then dashed on the ground and extinguished.  Next
came the noise of feet flying back along the track; these died
rapidly away in the distance, and the scrub was as silent as before.

"Saw our tracks!" said Brown with a disgusted sigh, breaking the
spell that held them all quiet.

"How could they see our tracks in the dark?" asked Charlie.

"They could both feel and smell them," returned Morton.  "The ground
is caked hard from the last thunder-storm, and our horses walking one
after the other have cut it up soft.  Of course, with their bare feet
they could tell the difference at once.  The scent, too, would be as
plain as possible at this time in the morning, even to one of us.
What's the time, Brown?"

Brown struck a match.

"Three.  It will be breaking day soon after five.  Let's wait till
then."

"Why?" demanded Morton.  "We might as well get along while it's cool.
There's the remains of a moon just rising."

"Why?  Because you think with me that it was a funeral party.  Now, I
should like to know what they did with the body; they never carried
it away with them at that pace."

"Never thought of that," returned Morton.  "Yes, we might pick up
some information by waiting until daylight and seeing what they threw
away.  Make a fire, and we'll have breakfast."

The time soon passed in discussing the strange scene just witnessed
and the probable result of their trip.  Morton reminded Brown of the
freemasons M'Dowall Stuart asserted he met with amongst the
aborigines in the interior, and Charlie, who had not heard the former
conversation, was enlightened as to the probable meaning of what had
just passed.

As soon as daylight was strong enough the investigation commenced.
Right on the track where it had been hastily dropped lay the dead
body of a man.  A tall old man, fastened on to a rude litter of
saplings.  The forehead was smeared with red pigment, and on the
dusky breast was a triangle inscribed in white.

Brown gave a low whistle.

"That's a thing I never saw blacks draw before," he said to Morton.

"Nor I.  He's a fine-looking old boy.  What a long white beard he has
got for a nigger!"

The corpse was fastened to the litter with strips of curragong bark;
and they were turning away after noticing these details, when Brown
suggested that they had better move it off the track.

"You know," he explained, "we might come bustling back here in a
bigger hurry than those fellows were, and tumble over the old
gentleman in the dark."

The litter and its burden were shifted a few paces in the scrub, and,
full of expectation, the party resumed their interrupted journey.

The break where they had halted was the beginning of the outskirts of
the scrub; the country soon became more open, and as it did so the
track they were following grew less marked.  It was still, however,
quite plain enough for any bushman to follow easily.  At noon, to the
great relief of the horses, they came to a small pool of rain-water,
and some fairly good grass.  Here they turned out for a long spell.

"Question is," said Brown, when the usual discussion commenced,
"Where did those nigs camp?  No sign of them here.  By the way,
Billy, did you notice any gins' tracks amongst them?"

"No," returned the boy.  "Altogether blackfellow."

"Must be more water ahead; and I hope so, for this won't last another
week, and we want something permanent to fall back on.  Now, I'm
going aloft on the look-out," said Morton.

Charlie watched him curiously as he slung the field-glass over his
shoulder, and taking a tomahawk proceeded to an exceptionally tall
bloodwood-tree near the camp.  At the foot he took off his boots, and
cutting niches in the trunk, as a blackfellow does when climbing, he
was soon up amongst the topmost branches.  Ensconcing himself firmly,
he took a comprehensive sweep around with the glasses, and then
directed his attention to the westward.

"Below there!" he shouted, after a lengthened scrutiny.

"Hi, hi, sir!" returned Charlie.

"Brown!  Will your long legs bring you up here safely?"

"Well, I'll try."  And in a short time Brown was up alongside his
friend, and a very earnest discussion followed, extremely tantalizing
to Charlie down below.  After taking a compass-bearing to some
distant object they descended; and Charlie, who was already
barefooted, immediately attempted the ascent, slipping ignominiously
down after getting up two or three steps, to the intense delight of
Billy.  With the black boy's assistance, however, and much sarcastic
advice from his cousin and Brown, he managed to reach the first
branches, and thence easily gained the perch Morton had occupied on
the top.

What did he see when he got there?

To the westward the forest soon came to an abrupt stop, and beyond
stretched a great gray plain, bounded by something that Charlie could
not make out, and which had evidently puzzled Brown and Morton.  It
was not water, although it looked something like it; it was a broad
sheet of pale blue, glistening in places under the sun's rays, and
beyond, above a quivering haze, was a dark object like a distant
ridge.

"What name, Billy?" said Charlie to the black boy, who had climbed up
after him.  "Water?"

"_Bal_," said Billy decidedly.  "Water sit down here, close up," he
added, pointing to the edge of the forest.

"What name, then?" repeated Charlie.

"Mine think it mud, where water bin go bung," was the blackfellow's
opinion, and with this they both descended.

"Well, Charlie, what do you make of it?" asked Morton.

"Billy thinks it's mud where the water has dried up," returned
Charlie, as he had no opinion of his own to offer.

"And Billy's right, I believe.  It must be the bed of a dry salt
lake; but we'll get along to the edge of the timber and camp."

On the margin of the plain they came to some fine lagoons, with good
grass for the horses, but nothing could be seen of the mysterious
object ahead, excepting from the top of a tree.

On the banks of the lagoons they found abundant traces of the
natives, and it was evidently a main camping-place on their way to
and from their burial-place.  Many of the trees were marked with
triangles, a sign which considerably puzzled the elder travellers.
The open country, the ample supply of water, and the relief from the
gloomy surroundings of the scrub had restored the cheerful tone of
the party, and imparted a sense of security to them.

But neither Brown nor Morton were men to neglect due precautions, now
that their presence was known to the probably hostile inhabitants.
So a watch was kept all night by the three whites in turn, Billy
escaping the vigil, as blacks are not to be trusted to keep awake.



CHAPTER IV.

The Limestone Plain--The Devil's Tracks--A Strange Mark.


The morning found them early on the move, the night having passed
without any alarm, false or real.  They still followed the faint
track leading straight toward the dark ridge they had seen beyond the
blue expanse.  This supposed dry lake had been visible from the camp
before sunrise, but as the sun rose it disappeared, nor did they
again sight it until nearly eight o'clock.  At ten they were close to
it, and all doubt as to its character was set at rest.  They pulled
up, not at the edge of a dry salt lake, but of an unbroken sheet of
limestone rock.  Nothing was visible ahead but this stony sea of
bluish-gray, over which a heated haze was undulating.  The dark line
beyond, resembling a ridge, had vanished, and the wind that blew in
their faces across the surface of this strange plain, was as hot as
though it came from the open door of a furnace.

[Illustration: THEY FIND THE DEVIL'S TRACK ON THE ROCK-PLAIN.]

Morton turned and rode along the edge of the rock to where the pad
came in, for they had left the track for the last hundred yards.  He
whistled, and the others joined him.  The track still continued right
on across the rock, but its course was now indicated by other means.
On the surface of the limestone had been scratched and chipped with
infinite care, an imitation of human footsteps, or rather more than
human footsteps, for the gigantic tracks were more than twice the
size of a man's, and a stride to correspond was indicated.  Side by
side, about six feet apart, these two awful footsteps disappeared
into the quivering mirage.

"I've seen that mark before on the granite mounds in Western
Australia," said Brown.  "You notice that there are six toes to it.
It's supposed to be the footprint of the devil."

"By Jove, what tedious work it must have been cutting those marks!"
returned Morton.  "They're not lazy beggars ahead of us whatever else
they may be.  But what shall we do now?"

"Go back to the lagoons.  It's a rattling good camp, and we have
heaps of time before us.  We'll hold a council of war this afternoon
and decide upon some course of action."

"Right," answered Morton.  "We shall have to go slowly and cannily or
we shall be getting into a tight place."

They returned to their former camp, and, as evening drew on, entered
into a discussion as to their immediate movements.

"Brown, you're the longest, speak first," said Morton.

"Those beggars are located beyond that limestone rock.  Is not that
so?"

"Yes."

"They may be the most mild and peaceful people going, and they may be
the most truculent ruffians.  I incline to the latter opinion."

"So do I, but I cannot say why exactly.  They took to their heels
quick enough the other night."

"Oh, any niggers will do that on a sudden start.  However, it's
safest to act as though they were our enemies."

"Decidedly."

"To-morrow we'll go right and left along the edge of the rock for a
few miles on each side of the track, and see if there's any other
track they use.  If there's only the one, why, we know where to
expect them from."

To this Morton agreed, but suggested that two should follow the track
across the rock.

"No, old man, you're too eager," said Brown.  "We're too small a
party to afford to split up.  When we go across that rock we must all
go, and take pot luck."

"You're right," agreed Morton.  "To-morrow you and I will go along
the edge of the rock.  Charlie, you and Billy will stop and mind camp
and examine all the trees about for marks, in fact have a good
fossick round."

"When we cross the rock we shall have to go on foot, we can't take
the horses across," said Brown.

"Certainly not, and I doubt if we can cross on foot in the daytime.
We should be baked to death with the rock underneath and the sun
overhead.  We should get no shade to rest under the whole way across."

"The horses will be safe enough here while we are away.  If the
niggers use only the one track, why, we are bound to meet them."

Another quiet night was passed, although a watch was kept.  In the
cool morning Brown and Morton started across the plain, leaving
Charlie to scour about the camp.  Billy, arrayed in a light and airy
costume consisting of a saddle-strap and a tomahawk, had evidently
laid himself out for a day's pleasurable sport.

"This plain seems fairly well grassed," said Morton as they rode
across.  "Wonder how far it extends?"

"We'll find out before we get back.  But country is not of much value
out here just now, no matter how good it is."

"No, worse luck; you and I know that to our cost."

When they reached the rock they separated, Brown going north and
Morton south.  Following the edge along, without going into all the
dips and bends, Morton went on until he reckoned he had covered some
six miles.  The limestone rock pursued much the same course to the
southward, but the forest and the continuation of the chain of
lagoons at its edge bore in towards the rock, and it was evident that
the two would meet in time.

Morton rode over to the edge of the timber, and found that the
water-course there was still well supplied with occasional pools of
water.  He could see no tracks of blacks there, nor were there any
marks on the rock: all was lifeless and lonely, save for the tireless
kites.  As he rode back, however, he caught sight of a bird high up
in the air steadily flying to the west.  He recognized it as an
eagle-hawk, and was astonished to see others following, all flying in
the same direction.  Then the discordant note of a crow came to him,
and a flock of the black creatures flew past, conversing in the
peculiar guttural croak common to crows when on the wing.  They, too,
were going across the rock to the westward.

"Hang me, if there isn't a rendezvous over there somewhere of all the
carrion birds in the district," said Morton.

He rode on and found Brown at the meeting-place, he having got back
sooner.  His experience had been somewhat similar for the first few
miles; then the country changed, a low stunted forest obtruded from
the east, and the ground became hard, stony, and barren, save for
patches of spinifex.[1]  The limestone rock, too, became more uneven
and broken, and it was evident that he had approached the verge of
the formation they were then traversing; probably, he thought, the
change would result in a large expanse of desert, spinifex country.


[1] A wiry, prickly grass, useless as fodder.


"We could get round that way," he remarked, "without having to cross
this rock."

"Better stick to the track; then we know we are going straight to
wherever these triangle men came from," replied Morton.

"Did you see any niggers' tracks?"

"Not a sign of any.  I don't think I saw or heard a living thing of
any kind since leaving."

Morton told him about the flight of hawks and crows he had noticed,
and as they rode back to camp they decided to make an excursion to
the south before tackling the great rock and the mystery beyond.  It
was as well to know all about the country before making their final
start; and, moreover, if the natives came back and saw their tracks
going away south it might throw them off their guard.

Charlie and Billy had found nothing about the camp beyond a peculiar
mark cut on a tree, which somewhat differed from the others they had
seen.  They had caught some fish in the largest of the lagoons, and
Billy had a fine big carpet snake roasting in the ashes; for no
matter how well fed a blackfellow is, he always likes to revert to
his aboriginal delicacies occasionally.

Charlie took them to inspect the new mark, which was on a large
flooded box-tree.  It had been chopped out with a stone tomahawk in
the rugged bark, and must have taken much time and labour.  Both men
looked at it from all points of view without arriving at any
conclusion; then, just as they were turning away, Morton exclaimed:

"If I saw that tatooed on a sailor's arm I should say that it was
meant for an anchor."

The two others instantly recognized the resemblance, and they all
came to the conclusion that it was a rude attempt to depict that
emblem.

"Mystery thickens," said Brown.  "Are we going to reach the
much-talked-of inland sea and find a race of sailor-men in
possession?"

"Devilish queer," replied Morton; "it seems to me the sort of mark an
illiterate white man who had been a sailor would make on a tree.
It's chopped out very neatly, much as a sailor would do anything of
the sort."

"I suppose we shall find out all about it before we get to the end of
this trip," returned Brown.

"Yes, and a good deal more than we now dream of, I anticipate."

"Did you have a good look to the south and north when you were up
that tree?" asked Brown.

"No, I didn't.  My attention was at once taken up by the
strange-looking rock ahead of us."

"So was mine.  I think we might go up another at sundown; we might
see something."

When the sun nearly touched the horizon they ascended the tallest
tree in the neighbourhood, but nothing was discernible southward.  To
the north, however, a low range was visible a long distance away.

A quiet undisturbed night succeeded, and an early start was made the
next morning.



CHAPTER V.

Hot Springs--A Lifeless Swamp--More Marks of the Natives.


The first six miles being over the country traversed by Morton was
naturally uninteresting.  Then the plain grew narrower and narrower.
The chain of lagoons where they had camped developed into a large
water-course, and the flat limestone rock began to alter its
character and soon merged into a basaltic ridge coming from the
westward.  At mid-day the plain was a thing of the past, and they
were now travelling along a broad water-course, with open forest on
one side and a rude line of basalt boulders, piled like a wall, on
the other.

At a fair-sized lagoon, thick with water-lilies, they turned out for
their meal.

"Funny," remarked Brown, "how these inland rivers disappear.  This
water-course looks big enough now, but I bet it runs out to nothing
before night."

"Yes; the wet seasons, I suppose, are very rare, and when one comes
the flood-water is absorbed by soakage and evaporation before it can
cut a continuous channel.  You know that no rivers enter the sea to
the south of us."

"I know; it's all a wall of cliffs around the head of the Great
Bight.  Was there not some yarn once about fresh water being obtained
there some distance at sea?"

"I've heard something about it; it was put down to the discharge of a
subterranean river, but I don't think the fact was ever proved."

"Well, if we find a river of that sort we'll make a canoe and send
Charlie and Billy down it to explore.  What do you say, Charlie?"

"There might be some Jinkarras living down there," replied Charlie.

"Ever see any Jinkarras, Billy?" asked Morton.

"No.  Plenty bin hear 'em," replied Billy.

"I wonder how this yarn of an underground race, the Jinkarras,
originated."

"I can't make out.  The noise they hear at night that they say is
made by the Jinkarras is made by a bird--a kind of quail."

"Well, we must be off; pack up boys," said Brown.

About four o'clock a dense mass of foliage was visible ahead, which,
as they drew nearer, proved to be huge paper-bark-trees, with long
trailing branches, like gigantic weeping willows.  The ground around
these ancient giants was soft and spongy, and the bed of the creek
was soon lost.  The ground being too soft to allow of the horses
progressing any further, a camp was made and they were hobbled out.

Leaving Billy to light a fire and mind camp, the three whites went on
foot through this great white forest.  The ground grew swampier as
they proceeded, until at last, when within sight of a belt of tall
reeds, they could proceed no farther.  Moreover, the water was
getting uncomfortably warm.

"Hot soda springs," said Brown; "this accounts for the growth of
these trees.  There's an easy one to climb," pointing to a bending
one.  "Let's go aloft and look ahead."

The tree was easy of ascent, and the three were soon high up amongst
the branches.  Beyond the reeds lay a lakelet of clear water, but,
save for the deep fringe of rushes, not a plant of any sort was
visible.  No ducks or other aquatic birds could be seen.

"I guess that water's too warm for anything to live in it," said
Morton.

It was a strange scene; the sun was sinking low, and anywhere else
the place at that time would have been busy with feathered life, but
here all was lifeless.  The lakelet, surrounded by its border of tall
reeds, in which there was apparently no break, lay there calm and
unruffled.

"Let's get back to camp," said Brown.  "Looks as though we'd got into
a dead corner of the world."

Next morning it was determined to follow the swamp round to the
westward to ascertain its extent.  In a mile or two they came to
where the basalt wall apparently ran out in the swamp, disappearing
in a few scattered boulders.  Just beyond this they came to a
well-beaten track, which came round the swamp from the direction in
which they were going and turned off amongst the basalt.  Following
this track along, in about a mile they came on two skeletons lying
beside it.  Some dry bits of skin still adhered here and there on the
fleshless bones.

"A nice part of Australia this," remarked Brown, as they halted and
gazed at the poor remains.  "If we're not falling foul of a cemetery
or a funeral, we run against skeletons lying promiscuously about.
Wonder what brought them here."

"Not want of water at any rate," replied Morton.  "Been a fight,
perhaps.  They don't seem to belong to those triangle gentry, at any
rate."

"They must have been lying here months," answered Brown; "they're
past our help anyway.  May as well get on."

Gradually the swamps rounded off to the southward, and it was evident
that there was no continuation that way.  The creek they had followed
from the lagoons had disappeared, as Brown had predicted.  To the
south was nothing but a stony, desert forest of stunted trees, the
ground covered with spinifex.  Strange to say, however, the track
that had partly circled the hot swamp had branched off and headed due
south.  There had been some discussion as to whether they should
follow it or not, but, as it was evident that this track and the one
marked by the devil's footsteps were trending to the same centre, it
was decided to postpone it until they had solved that mystery first.
The swamp was of such a circumference that it was nearly sundown when
they got back to the site of their last night's camp, having crossed
no outflow from the swamp anywhere.

In the morning it was thought better to go back to the old camp at
the lagoons and follow the devil's footsteps, than try to follow the
track amongst the boulders coming from the south.

They arrived there early, and immediately made preparations for
burying their spare rations, ammunition, &c.  The next few hours were
busy ones.  Saddles, rations, spare ammunition, &c., were all
carefully buried, and the whereabouts masked by a fire being lit on
the top to hide the disturbance of the earth.  They started as soon
as this work was finished, each man carrying rifle, revolver,
ammunition, three days' rations, quart-pot, and water-bag--a fair
load for men always accustomed to riding only.  Most devoutly they
all prayed that they would be off the rock soon after daylight the
next morning.



CHAPTER VI.

The Night March across the Great Rock--Meeting with the Natives--The
Secret of the Burning Mountain.


With all the despatch they made they did not reach the edge of the
rock before twelve; but it mattered little, as the surface was only
then getting cool, and would have been unbearable any earlier.

Billy was sent first with bare feet, he being trusted to follow the
track by feeling when they strayed off it, as he would then cross the
rough surface made by the sculptured footprints, the remainder of the
limestone being almost as smooth as marble.

It was a weird and weary tramp across this rock by the light of the
stars, with vague darkness all around them.  None of them felt
inclined to speak, and an intense silence reigned everywhere.  A
sickly moon rose just before daylight, and its faint beams cast the
long shadows of the travellers across the gleaming surface of the
limestone.  The thought in the minds of the three white men was the
same--what would daylight show them?  Billy plodded along
mechanically; most of the time he was half asleep.

Daylight came at last, and the black line that they had seen from the
tree-top gradually came into view, apparently not far ahead; and each
felt grateful that he had not to encounter the force of the sun on
the face of the naked rock.

When it was broad daylight the dark line resolved itself under the
glasses into a row of basaltic boulders, with some bushes growing in
their clefts and a bottle-tree here and there on their summits.

"We shall be there before it is hot," said Morton thankfully, as he
closed the glasses; "let's push on."

They did so, and before the sun had attained much power found
themselves amongst the boulders.  The track led straight into a gap,
and on one side a huge block of stone, supported by two others, made
a rude cave, under which the weary men gladly took shelter after
their toilsome tramp.  Evidently it was a halting-place for the
blacks, for the remains of fires were about, and a supply of
firewood, which came in very handy for the tired men to cook their
breakfast with.

A satisfactory meal and a smoke being finished, the situation was
reviewed.  Behind them lay the bare expanse of rock just crossed, and
before them the unknown.  Now, too, they would have to keep a keen
look-out for lurking foes, because in amongst these boulders every
step was fraught with danger, especially as the blacks knew of their
approach; and it was evident that they were trespassing on tabooed
ground.  The future movements of the party were now, as might be
supposed, a matter of serious consideration, and Brown and Morton
were in earnest discussion when a loud report like a clap of thunder
suddenly startled the little company to their feet.  A low rumbling
followed that seemed to shake the very rocks.  Hurrying outside,
nothing was seen that could possibly have caused the strange noise;
the sky was cloudless, the air still and sultry.

Suddenly Billy pointed to the westward.  "Fire jump up," he said.

A puff of white smoke, or vapour, was rising, seemingly only a short
distance from them.  Silently they watched it ascend and disperse.

"Blacks here have artillery apparently," said Brown.  "Salute in
honour of our arrival."

Nothing more following, they returned to the cave, leaving Charlie at
the entrance on the lookout.

"If these fellows know nothing about the effect of firearms," said
Morton, "we may be able to establish a funk; they may have heard of
them only from the other tribes."

"I don't think they have much communication with the other tribes by
the look of it, but, if they live amongst these rocks, what on earth
do they exist on?--for there's no game here."

"Well, all we can do is to keep a sharp lookout and our powder
dry--What's up?"

"Here's the corpse!" cried Charlie, falling back from the entrance in
amazement.

Billy gave an awful yell; the others started to their feet as a tall
native coolly walked into the cave, and squatted down on the ground.
It certainly was enough to give them all a fright, for the visitor,
in outward appearance, greatly resembled the dead man left in the
scrub.  A second glance, however, showed points of difference, which
proved him to be a denizen of the earth; he was marked with the white
triangle on the breast, and the red smear on the forehead, but was
naked and unarmed, whilst his manner showed no trace of fear.
Recovering themselves somewhat, Morton lugged Billy forward to see if
he could converse with the new-comer.  This proceeding, however, did
not suit their visitor, for he addressed a furious tirade at Mr.
Billy Button in some unknown tongue, winding up by violently spitting
at him.

Billy slunk back scared, and the native, rising, took Brown by the
arm and led him to the entrance; pointing alternately forward and
backwards he made signs for them to turn back, and not go on.  Brown
returned answer by signs that they must go on.  The blackfellow shook
his head vigorously, and then held up his hand motioning them to
listen.  Again the loud report was heard, and a puff of vapour
ascended as before.

To the apparent surprise of the native, the whites showed no alarm,
and Brown taking his carbine stepped back, and fired it into the air.
The black gave a decided start, and trembled a little, but stood his
ground; then his mind seemed to change, and, making a sign to Brown
to stay, he strode off and disappeared behind the surrounding rocks.

"Is he coming back, do you think?" said Brown.

"I think so," replied Morton.  "He's a fine fellow, with plenty of
pluck."

"Then we'll give him twenty minutes' grace--but here he comes, and
all his sisters and his cousins and his aunts."

Sure enough their former visitor appeared, accompanied by some
half-dozen others, similarly painted and all unarmed.  He spoke a few
words to them, and pointed towards Brown, upon whom they gazed
curiously.

"Now then, Brown," said Morton, "you're the star; evidently they want
an exhibition."

Brown, who had reloaded his carbine, fired it in the air again.  The
fresh arrivals showed more alarm than the first man had, some of them
squatted hastily down and all started with fear.

"It appears to me, Brown, that they consider you 'brother belonging'
to this noise ahead," remarked Morton.

"It looks like it, and we must keep up the pleasing fiction, for
these fellows 'have us on toast' in amongst these rocks.  I wonder
how many more there are round about."

"Let's see if we can go on now," said Morton.

On Brown indicating their wish to proceed, the most ready
acquiescence was displayed, and at a few words from the native who
had first arrived the others showed by signs their intention to carry
the strangers' packs.

Before starting, however, names were interchanged, that being
generally found the easiest steps towards intimacy.  Brown, Morton,
and Charlie (or Sarley) were soon picked up, and the chief, as he
appeared to be, introduced himself as Columberi, which, of course,
was at once turned into Columbus by Brown, and the oldest blackfellow
amongst the others was named Yarlow.

With Columbus appropriately in the lead, the march commenced, the
tracks winding in and out among the rocks in a very intricate
fashion.  For nearly five miles they kept on, although in a straight
line they would not probably have traversed more than two, and at
last arrived at an open space surrounded by bottle-trees, and from
the number of humpies,[1] built of mud and grass, apparently the
head-quarters of the tribe.  Here they halted.  About twenty more
blacks were sitting about, who at first made a show of taking to
their heels, but a call from Columbus brought them back.


[1] A native hut built of bark or sticks plastered with mud; called
also a "gunyah" or a "whirlie".


Selecting a shady tree, Brown indicated that their swags should be
brought up, and this being done he remarked:

"What do you say to a feed, and then getting Christopher here to show
us the ropes?"

"Just as well," returned Brown; "we must take everything as a matter
of course, and show no surprise."

Billy made a fire, and the quarts were put on to boil, a proceeding
which interested the spectators greatly.  Brown by signs then invited
Columbus to sit down, and presented him with a piece of damper
thickly coated with sugar, at the same time eating a piece himself to
inspire confidence.

The native started to eat in a slow and doubtful manner, but after a
bite or two finished it off with great gusto and indicated a wish for
more.

The quarts now bubbled up, and the blacks with one accord emitted a
united "ha!"[2] and pointed to the westward; evidently the boiling
water bore some resemblance to something in that direction.


[2] Wild Australian blacks know nothing of boiling water.  They make
water hot by putting hot stones in it.


Columbus now described a mark in the dust like a half-circle, and
pointed in the direction they had come.  "He means the horse-tracks
they saw," said Morton, after a pause.  He nodded vigorously to the
old man, who continued his pantomime by lying on his back as though
dead.  Morton nodded again and patted the ground, pointing backwards
to indicate that the corpse was still there.

Columbus then called the other blacks aside, and after a long talk
half a dozen of them drew off and disappeared amongst the surrounding
boulders.

"We must follow up this burning mountain business," said Brown, as
soon as he had eaten his dinner; "now old Columbus has disposed of
his private affairs perhaps he will take us there."

"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.



CHAPTER VII.

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 a
_corroboree_ now 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.



CHAPTER VIII.

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."



CHAPTER IX.

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.



CHAPTER X.

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.



CHAPTER XI.

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."

[Illustration: 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.)



CHAPTER XII.

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."

"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.



CHAPTER XIII.

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.



CHAPTER XIV.

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.



CHAPTER XV.

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 STUART
  CAME 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.



CHAPTER XVI.

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.



CHAPTER XVII.

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."



CHAPTER XVIII.

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."

[Illustration: 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.



CHAPTER XIX.

The Grave of one of the Unknown Race--Morton's Departure--Charlie
falls Sick.


The shadow cast by the sides of the hole was too dark for Brown to
see at once what sort of treasure he had unearthed, but a nearer
inspection did not afford him any more satisfaction.  Apparently
there was nothing beneath the sheet of metal but a deposit of damp,
mouldy earth, emitting a pungent smell of a most repulsive nature.
Brown drew back somewhat sickened, and told the natives to clean out
the trench while he went out for a breath of fresh air.

In a few minutes he returned.  The heap of mould alongside the now
empty hole told him that the work was finished.  The blacks were on
their knees, eagerly examining some objects they had found amongst
the contents of the trench.  Billy handed them to Brown.  The first
was a chain of small steel links and most beautiful workmanship,
bearing as a pendant a tiny triangle formed of the same metal.  A
metal plate nearly a foot square, covered with hieroglyphics similar
to those inscribed on the walls of the cave, was the next thing he
examined, and then came a dagger resembling the one already
discovered.  This, however, had a handle, or what appeared to be one,
made of finely-twisted gold threads wound tightly round the haft.
This was all.  Brown puzzled over these relics for some time, and
then strolled to the crest of the ridge to see how the voyagers were
getting on.  Apparently they had experienced what is known as a
soldier's wind, for the canoe was coming back with a flowing sail.
Brown and Billy walked down to the shore of the lake to meet them.
The trip had been uninteresting; the lake was exceedingly shallow
everywhere with the exception of the end where they were.  There it
was deep and permanent.  Brown told them of the discovery he had
made, and they revisited the cave together.

"It's my opinion," said Morton after lengthy examination, "that it is
a grave, and this mould all that there is left of a body--probably
burnt before being put in the grave.  The necklet, plate, and dagger
are the ornaments and weapon worn by the man at the time of his
death.  He must have been some great priest."

"The same conclusion that I have been working round to," replied
Brown.  "That plate is a priestly breastplate, like those we read of
in the Old Testament."

The question of visiting Hentig's grave was one that was now
discussed.  It was settled at last that Morton and Billy would make
the trip, leaving Brown and Charlie to continue the investigation of
the caves, and also to come out with relief in case Morton was
overdue.  By careful computation they thought they could pretty well
guess the course pursued by the three white men from the last water
to the lake.  With two horses packed with water they reckoned they
could get out and back without much trouble, even if there was no
water at the marked tree.

Morton and Billy therefore started early the next morning, for
although the night would have been cooler to cross the spinifex
desert, they might have missed some important indications in the
dark.  Four days was the utmost limit Morton allowed himself; Brown
was then to start on his tracks, as something would have probably
happened to the horses.

Left at the lake, Brown and Charlie devoted themselves to a searching
examination of the locality.  Several trees marked with an anchor,
similar to the one at the lagoon camp, were discovered, evidently the
work of Murphy, who had seemingly appropriated the symbol.  A mark
resembling a rude K was seen once or twice, and they took it to stand
for Kelly's handiwork.

They sounded the caves all over but without any more success, and at
last concluded that they had found all there was to be found.

The sun was high the morning of the third day when Brown returned
from his swim in the lagoon, and, to his surprise, found Charlie
still sleeping, with a hot flush on his face.  Brown aroused him, and
the boy sat up and looked vacantly around, recovered himself after a
bit, and proceeded to get up.  He refused to eat anything, but drank
a good deal of tea.  Brown watched him anxiously.

"What's the matter, old boy?" he asked.

"I don't feel up to the mark.  I had a wretched nightmare last night;
it kept me awake afterwards until nearly daylight, so that I
overslept myself."

"I feel off colour too," replied Brown.  "Last night I could have
quarrelled with my own shadow.  I hope we didn't release any evil
spirit from that grave."

"Don't say that," replied Charlie, "for that is just what I dreamt.
Strange that you should think the same."

"Tell me about it, sonney," said Brown.  "We'll soon fix up any
intrusive old ghost."

Charlie, as he could see, was upset by something, and Brown felt
uneasy, as the thought of sickness overtaking one of their party
became patent to him.

"I dreamt," commenced Charlie, "that I was on the edge of this lake.
I was alone, and very frightened with a quite unnatural terror.  I
thought you had both gone away and left me.  I tried to cry out but
could not, and turned round, for I felt some fearful thing was
approaching me from behind.  True enough, the great figure from the
cave was there, looking at me with terrible eyes.  On its breast was
the plate we found in the grave, and--I could read the characters
written on it."

Charlie paused.

"What was the writing?" asked Brown, interested by the boy's
earnestness.

"I can shut my eyes and see it now.  It ran--'_The Spirit of Evil is
everywhere.  Worship then the Spirit of Evil only, and do his
behests._'  As I looked and read the figure smiled mockingly at me,
and I woke up in a cold perspiration, and could not sleep again."

"Charlie, my boy," said Brown, "we will discuss your dream by and by.
Meantime, I am going to mix you a dose of quinine and brandy; you've
got a touch of malarial fever coming on.  Now I'll fix up a
bough-shade for you; it will be cooler than the tent, and you must
keep quiet all day."

Brown soon had a good shade of boughs erected, and making up as
comfortable a bed as he could for the sick lad, he stopped with him
all day.  Charlie was very feverish, but towards sundown he fell into
an uneasy sleep, and Brown went for a stroll up and down and smoked
his pipe.  "This is a lively look-out," he mused.  "I hope those
devilish old rites don't mean to claim another victim.  Dreamt we
both went away and left him!"  Brown's eyes grew moist as he thought
of the possibility of the words coming true in one sense, and Charlie
being left in a solitary grave by the side of the lake.  "If Morton
does not turn up to time what a fix I shall be in, for I can't go and
look for him."

Charlie passed a restless night, and towards the middle of the
ensuing day he became delirious.  This was the margin of Morton's
return, but the sun set, and Brown strained his eyes in vain across
the plain.

Charlie's delirium was at its height that night.  Always he raved of
the great figure in the cave standing over and threatening him.

The fifth day passed and still no sign of Morton, and Brown was
nearly distracted at the thought that his friend was in some
difficulty, expecting him to come to his relief, and he could not
leave the sick boy for an hour.  He passed the night once more by
Charlie's side, trying to soothe him and listening to his incoherent
mutterings.  It was about three o'clock in the morning when Charlie,
who had been quiet for some time, dropped off to sleep.  The silence
that ensued was broken by a sound more grateful to Brown than
anything else he could possibly have heard--the distant sound of a
horse-bell.  There was no doubt about it, the horses were coming
rapidly across the plain, and evidently being driven, the bell having
been loosened as is generally done when travelling with pack-horses
at night.  On they came at a sharp trot, for they were no doubt
thirsty and knew where they were coming to.  Brown listened till they
ran down the opposite bank and commenced drinking, then he knew by
the voices that Morton and Billy were both there, and called across
to them.

"That you, Brown?" came back in reply.

"Yes; I could not go out as I promised."

"Glad you didn't, as it happened.  But what's up?"

"I'll tell you as soon as you come round, but come quietly."

Brown walked a little distance to meet them, and they unpacked the
horses where they met so as not to disturb Charlie, who was still
sleeping.  Brown told Morton in a low voice, and they went into the
tent together.  Charlie was muttering in his sleep, and it was still
of the figure on the wall.  They went out and sat by the fire, where
they could hear the slightest sound, and Morton told Brown all that
had passed since he left.



CHAPTER XX.

Morton's Trip to Hentig's Grave--A further Discovery.


"When we left the lake that morning," began Morton, "we passed, of
course, over a few miles of good downs country before we came to the
edge of the desert, then we had nothing to do but keep straight on
the course we had selected until night, when we had to camp in the
spinifex.  Next evening we came straight to the water-hole.  It was a
splendid fluke, and I never expected such luck.  There was a good
supply of water in the hole and fair grass, so we were not badly off.
I found the tree where Hentig was buried, although the cross that
Stuart cut had nearly grown out.  The powder-flask, however, had been
only buried a short distance in the ground, and as the bush rats had
dug it up it had rusted and rotted almost to pieces.  We found some
of the contents, but the writing is almost if not quite illegible, as
the paper has been soaked into pulp two or three times.  As far as I
can make out, though, it was written by Leichhardt himself, and as
such will be valuable.  Now I come to what detained me.  Billy, whom
I told to look on all the trees about the waterhole for marks, found
a couple of initials on three of the trees.  Of course the sides of
the bark had grown together, and could only be traced like a crack in
the bark.  I made these initials out to be L.F.  If you remember,
Stuart mentions that the two men who were lost never reached this
water, but one of them must have got in to it after Stuart left.  I
say one of them, because the same initials were repeated.  I lay
awake for a long time reasoning the thing out.  When Stuart and the
others left there was no water in the hole, they used up the last of
it; therefore, this man must have come back after rain had fallen,
probably some months after, for he could not have stayed about
cutting his initials on trees without water.  He must certainly have
found other water.  Where was it?  If I could find it I might get
further information.

"In the morning I sent Billy back along our tracks with a note in a
cleft stick, which he was to stick up right on our tracks.  In the
note I told you to come on, as there was plenty of water in the hole.
Billy had instructions to ride till noonday, then stick the stick in
with a handkerchief tied to it, and come back again.  All this he
did, meanwhile I went fossicking about.  The hole was on the edge of
the plain, the same as the lagoons we were camped on so long.  I went
north first, and presently was able to find a kind of water-course
skirting the forest.  Once or twice I came to holes that should hold
water for some time, but they were all dry.  At last I was rewarded.
I came to a fair-sized lagoon, with ducks and other waterfowl on its
surface.  There was no sign of the place ever having been much
frequented by natives, at least I only saw some very old camps at
first.  At the end of the hole opposite to me was an old shell of a
gum-tree, one of these desert gums that grow to a very old age and
become quite hollow.  As I looked at this I saw something move, and
then, looking more intently, I could see some blue smoke stealing up.
Naturally I made for the place as soon as possible, wondering if I
was going to find a living white man.  When I reached the spot I
found a small fire burning, and in the tree an ancient old gin was
squatting.  She was almost blind, and could just make out that
something was moving about, for she snarled and struck out feebly but
viciously with a yam stick.  Oh, she was a cheerful old lady!

"I was puzzling my brains how she lived, for she seemed too feeble to
move and was too blind to see anything distinctly; for all that there
were plenty of feathers around the camp, although she could never
have caught the birds.  Presently the old dame, still growling to
herself, crawled out on her hands and knees to the fire, to which she
seemingly guided herself by the sense of smell.  Here she squatted
down, and I hung my horse up and went to look at her lair in the
tree.  There was an iron tomahawk shipped on to a black's handle, a
single-barrelled percussion shot-gun, and all sorts of little odds
and ends.  Evidently this survivor must have found a lot of things
abandoned at the old camp at Hentig's grave.  Just then my horse
shook himself, making the saddle rattle and jingle.  On hearing this
the old gin set up the most awful screaming you ever heard.  When she
quietened down someone called out to her from a short distance away,
and looking in the direction, I saw a light-coloured nigger limping
towards us.  He stopped and had a good look at me before approaching;
I held up both my hands as a sign of amity, and he came on pretty
fearlessly.  I then saw that he was a half-caste and a cripple.  One
leg had been broken in childhood and he had grown up with it shorter
than the other, and much distorted.  That he was a descendent of the
missing white man I had no doubt, but the old gin appeared too old to
be his mother.  He came up to me, and when I spoke to him seemed
greatly pleased, and pointing to himself said "Lee-lee" two or three
times, indicating that that was his name.  I gave him my name in
return, which he soon picked up.  He then led me to the tree, and
taking the gun out put it to his shoulder and cried out in imitation
of a report, showing that he had often seen it used.  I pointed to
the feathers, and he showed me two or three light boomerangs and a
fishing-net.  I tried to find out if he knew anything of the lake,
but he seemed quite ignorant of its existence.  I imitated death to
find out what had become of his father, and he led me to a place
where he indicated he was buried, but I could see no sign of a grave.
He knew two or three words of English,--water, gun, tree, and bird;
and I think he must at one time have known much more, but had
probably lost them since his father's death, who, I think, must have
been a man of the same intellectual calibre as Murphy, and quite
uneducated.  He explained by signs that his leg had been broken by a
branch breaking when he was climbing a tree as a little fellow.
Suddenly it struck me that there might be more in the family, and
after some trouble he led me to believe that there were, but they had
gone away with the tribe to the north.  He limped heavily to show me
that he had been left behind because he could not travel fast enough,
and I concluded that the old gin who had been left was no relation of
his, but had stayed behind from infirmity.  Lee-lee seemed very
active and clever, considering the disadvantage he laboured under,
and I made up my mind to bring him in to the lake.  He, however, did
not seem anxious to go at first, but I showed him the empty gun, of
which he was very proud, and made him understand that if he came with
me I would make it alive again, which he seemed to approve of highly.
Fortunately there were some boxes of caps amongst his belongings, as
ours are all breech-loaders.  He knew the hole where I was camped,
and intimated that he would come down in the morning.  All this took
some time, and it was late at night when I got back to camp, where I
found Billy blubbering under the impression that I was not coming
back again.  Lee-lee duly turned up the next morning, and Billy tried
to talk to him, but did not make much of a fist at it.  He said that
he thought some of the words were the same as those used by the lake
natives.  Lee-lee knew nothing of the Warlattas; and, if you
remember, the defunct Columbus told us that there were no natives to
the north.  I gave him sugar, which he highly appreciated, then we
saddled up and went up to his lagoon, which I reckoned to be nearly
fifteen miles away, so that he must have started pretty early in the
night to come to us.  I fixed him up on one of the pack saddles, and
he got on very well considering.

"The forest bears to the westward, and I intended to start straight
to the lake from Lee-lee's lagoon.  The difficulty was about the old
gin.  If left behind she would starve, and I did not see how we were
to get her across the desert.  I explained the dilemma to Lee-lee,
who seemed to understand.  Suddenly a bright idea struck him.  He
picked up his nulla-nulla and indicated that the easiest way to
settle the question was by knocking her on the head.  He appeared
rather surprised at my objecting somewhat angrily to this simple and
easy method, and I am not sure that Billy did not agree with him.

"I thought that as your ideas have been so brilliant lately, that we
might devise some means of getting the old gin safely across the
desert, and making these fellows and Lee-lee friends, so that, if we
make up our minds to take him back with us, the old woman would not
starve, for there is plenty of food about here.  I gave Lee-lee to
understand that I would be back in three days; but, of course, that
is knocked on the head, we must get Charlie well first.  Now, old
man, you've had no sleep for two nights.  I will sit by Charlie, and
you can have a snooze until daylight.  Watching is far more tiring
than riding."

As Brown really felt somewhat tired out, he adopted the suggestion
and retired to his blankets.

Charlie was no better in the morning, and Morton felt quite cast down
at the sad fate now looming, only too plainly, before his young
relative, for whom he entertained a great liking.  About mid-day
Brown suddenly arose as though filled with a new idea.  He went off
in the direction of the hill where the blacks were camped, and Morton
did not see him for nearly two hours, then he said he had only been
over to see how the niggers were getting on, and was silent and
abstracted until darkness fell, when he persuaded Morton to go and
rest while he kept watch by the invalid.

Morton, who had been riding and watching all the night before, slept
late.  When he awoke he saw Brown standing by the fire smoking.

"How is he?" he asked, as he took his towel to go for a swim in the
lake.

"Better, I think; he has been sleeping quietly all night without
talking.  When he wakes up he will be sensible, I think."

"That's good news," returned Morton.  "I shall be glad to see the boy
up again.  What a blessing it was that this thing happened in a good
camp with plenty of game of all sorts!  We must feed Charlie up well
now."

Brown puffed on, looking steadily in the fire.

"I suppose you will think me no end of a fool for what I have done,"
he went on at last.  "But I have not been able to help associating
Charlie's illness with my opening that grave and taking out that
devilish old plate.  I have had that same dream that Charlie had, and
could plainly see the plate and the inscription on it about the
Spirit of Evil.  I believe if I had not done what I have done not one
of us would have got back alive."

"What was that?" asked Morton.

"Took it back to the grave yesterday and filled the whole thing up,
and now Charlie is going to get better.  What's the verdict?"

"Well, I was going to call you a thundering old idiot, but in view of
the circumstances I won't.  It must have been a tribe of devil
worshippers who originally squatted down here."

"That's a weight off my mind.  I thought you would have cut up rusty,
for there's no doubt of the value of that relic.  But we have copies
of all the inscriptions."

Charlie awoke conscious, and soon began to mend so quickly, that in a
few days they were talking of going back to bring Lee-lee in.



CHAPTER XXI.

Lee-lee brought to the Lake--Charlie's Recovery--Final Departure from
the Lake.


The question of getting the infirm old gin across the desert was a
somewhat puzzling one.

Charlie, who was fast gaining strength, proposed making Billy and
some of the other blacks carry her by turns on a litter of boughs.
Brown reminded him that Stuart had found it impossible to get the
natives to go to the eastward, so he did not imagine that they would
have any better success.

"We must tie her on to a horse, somehow," said Morton at last.  And
that was all the conclusion they could arrive at.

Charlie was not yet strong enough to stand a long ride, but he felt
sufficiently restored to stay behind with only Billy for a companion.
So Brown and Morton went back, Charlie having promised to start Billy
to meet them with fresh horses on a day appointed.

Lee-lee was anxiously looking out for them, but seemed greatly
astonished at seeing two white men.  Brown's height, too, appeared to
excite his admiration, as it did that of all the blacks they met.

Morton had brought some powder and shot, procured by opening some of
their cartridges, as he thought that if he made the gun alive again
Lee-lee would come without any difficulty.

"How strange," said Brown, "that these three white men should have
lived so long separated from each other and yet within reach."

"I don't know that," replied Morton.  "It's rather hard for a man on
foot to get about in this country.  Remember we have fresh horses,
and know where the water is."

Morton inspected the gun.

"I suppose it won't burst," he remarked.

There was a rude ramrod in it, and with a piece of his handkerchief
torn off he proceeded to wipe it out.  Then he loaded it, Lee-lee
watching with great excitement; the old gin, unconscious of their
presence, squatting over the half dead fire.

A crow flew, cawing, overhead and settled on a neighbouring tree.
Lee-lee pointed eagerly at the bird.  Morton raised the gun and fired.

The crow fell down with an angry caw, and the old gin gave a wild
scream and tumbled forward on to the fire.

Lee-lee limped after the bird, and the two white men hauled the gin
off the fire, which fortunately was nearly out, and dusted the ashes
off her.

"You couldn't possibly have hit her?" said Brown.

"Not unless this old blunderbuss shoots round corners.  It's the
sudden fright."

They put the old creature in the shade, and then the two friends
started for a stroll round the lagoon.

When they returned Lee-lee pointed to the old gin as though highly
amused at something.  She had solved all the difficulties of
transport across the desert.  She was dead!

"That start I gave her firing off the gun did it," said Morton,
sorrowfully; "but she could not have lived much longer."

They indicated to Lee-lee that they would help him bury the old gin;
then they saddled up and rode to Hentig's camp, as Brown wanted to
see the place, and Morton to recover the pieces of the old
powder-flask, which he had neglected to secure on his first visit.
With a tomahawk they re-cut the cross on the tree where the remains
of Hentig rested.

They got back to Lee-lee's lagoon soon after dark, and devoted an
hour or two to packing up all the curious collection of stuff that
had so long been hoarded up.

Next morning they made a very early start, as, the half-caste being
quite new to riding, they had to go slow.  They camped in the desert
that night, and about the middle of the next day met Billy coming
along the tracks with fresh horses for them.  He reported Charlie as
being nearly well and everything being safe at the camp.  Late in the
afternoon, just after they caught sight of the lake, they heard an
outcry behind.  Looking around they saw Lee-lee limping back, and
Billy, who was laughing loudly, pursuing him.  It turned out that
Lee-lee got a sudden fright at seeing the great sheet of water for
the first time, and tumbled off his horse and tried to run back.  He
seemed reassured after a while, and went on quietly for the rest of
the way.  Charlie was up and looking nearly as well as ever, and had
a fine meal of fish and ducks waiting for them.  Lee-lee seemed
surprised at the appearance of still a third white man, but took
everything else, including his supper, as a matter of course.

Next morning they went over to the black's camp accompanied by
Lee-lee.  The young fellow who had been wounded was getting rapidly
well, Morton or Brown having attended to him and dressed his wound
every day.  It was soon evident that there was little or no language
in common between the two tribes, with the exception of a few words
used nearly everywhere in the interior.  They had lived and died year
after year unconscious of each other's existence.

"We have accounted now for all of Leichhardt's party but one, and he,
I think, must have died when the two were separated from the main
party," said Morton.

"He could scarcely have got back to where they were attacked by the
blacks in the scrub," replied Brown, "and if he had stuck to his
companion they would have found the water together.  No, he must have
perished at the time."

"Now, how about Lee-lee?"

"I think we will stop here for a bit and let Charlie get quite strong
and Lee-lee broken into riding a bit, then we will take him back to
the station.  What do you think?"

"I think it is a good idea; we go round by the way Stuart went and
try and pick up his gold reef."

"Yes.  We must find out whether one of these old men knows anything
about the hole; they ought to."

"Let's go over and make inquiries this afternoon."

This they did, and found out that one of the old men knew of the
hole, and had been there once when a young man.  He made no objection
to going with them, corroborating in this respect Stuart's journal.

They asked after Onkimyong, but, perhaps on account of their faulty
pronunciation, did not at first make themselves understood.  At last
one of the old fellows recognized the name, and pronounced it after
his own fashion.  The natives immediately pointed to where the bodies
lay in the old camp, and they understood that Stuart's faithful
companion had met his fate at the hands of the fierce Warlattas, whom
he had so often helped to defeat.  Both the men had cherished the
hope that he might be one of the survivors, as they would then have
taken him with them to show them the exact road Stuart travelled in
his vain attempt to get away.

From the old men they tried to obtain a description of Stuart's
personal appearance, but beyond that he was tall like Brown and had a
gray beard, they could not get much information.

They employed their spare time in rigging up a makeshift saddle for
Lee-lee to ride on; meantime he took his riding-lessons on one of
theirs, and got on famously.  He was very proud of being allowed to
fire off his gun two or three times a day, and once succeeded in
hitting a bird.  The time now drew near for their departure.  They
could do nothing for the natives, but as their enemies were dead, and
they lived in a land of plenty, there was no reason why the tribe
should not grow up again if they were allowed to remain long enough
unmolested.

The natives remained apathetically watching the whites when they
departed.  Probably they thought that as they came back once,
according to their belief, they would come back again.

The stage to the first water was not a long stage on horseback, so
the old man kept up with them easily.  He knew nothing beyond the
lagoon, however, so he was of no further use to them, and they felt
confident that they could follow up Stuart's track from his journal.
Next morning they gave him a spare tomahawk they had with them and
allowed him to depart.  Brown, whom he still considered as "Tuartee",
having to promise that he would return.

Lee-lee had got on very well with his first day's journey, and they
anticipated having no trouble.  He was quick and ready in the use of
his hands, and, moreover, he and Billy were beginning to understand
each other, so they hoped soon to get his history in full.  As they
had dry country ahead of them, scantily watered, they spelled a
couple of days at the white lagoon as they christened it, on account
of the milky appearance of the water.

The first day's journey was through the wearisome desert scrub
described by Stuart.  They calculated what a long day's march on foot
would be, but when they had covered that distance there was no sign
of the salt lake.

"These salt lakes have no tributaries running into them," said Brown;
"they are just depressions, with the surrounding country sloping into
the basin.  We might be within a quarter of a mile of it and miss it."

"We must find this one at anyrate, if we have to go back and camp for
a week at that lagoon," replied Morton.

"Well, it's still two or three hours off sundown, and we have plenty
of water for to-night.  Suppose you go north and I go south.  Charlie
and the boys stop here and keep a fire going with plenty of smoke, so
that we can get the straight bearing to the camp if either of us
drops on it."

"Agreed.  North is your lucky cardinal point, so I will take the
south."

They started in different directions, while Charlie and Billy took
the packs off the horses, and tied them up to trees with their
saddles still on, for there was no feed.

Morton went on south for nearly an hour without meeting with any
change.  He went east and west for short distances as he returned,
but was unsuccessful in coming upon any clue to the situation of the
salt lake.

Brown was equally unfortunate, until, just as he was on the point of
turning back, the unmistakable smell of burning scrub-wood struck on
his nostrils.

"It can't be from the camp," he thought; "what little wind there is
comes from the north."

He pushed on, and in a few minutes came to an open area, and before
him lay the salt lake.

There was a broad belt of mud surrounding a centre of clear water, on
which a varied lot of wild fowl, including black swans and wild
geese, were swimming.  On the slope descending to the edge of the mud
there was good short grass growing, and at no distance away he saw
the up-piled earth indicating a native well.  He rode over to it, and
dismounting found a fair supply of water in it.  It was slightly
brackish, but would do well enough for their horses, being what is
generally known as "good stock water".

He next looked all round the lake for the fire which he had smelt,
and presently detected the smoke a short way off, stealing out of the
edge of the scrub.

"Perhaps it's those six Warlattas," he thought, "and they might be
saucy seeing me alone."

He unslung his rifle from his saddle, and advanced with the bridle of
his horse on his arm.



CHAPTER XXII.

Another Remnant--An Exodus--Search for the Gold Reef and its
Discovery.


As he neared the spot he saw two or three dark figures spring up, as
though they then first noticed him.  Fearful that they would run
away, he called to them and held up one hand.  Presently an old man
came to the edge of the scrub.  He peered at Brown from under his
hand, for the afternoon sun was in his eyes; then he burst into a
shout of "Tuartee!  Tuartee!" so like the blacks at the lake that
Brown thought some of them must have followed him.  This, of course,
he knew to be almost impossible, and as they were evidently of a
friendly disposition, he walked boldly up.  There were only five
blacks in all, the old man and four youths.  The young fellows hung
back, but the old man laughed and stroked Brown affectionately,
murmuring "Tuartee" all the while.  There was no doubt that this was
another wretched remnant of the tribe formerly camped at the
mountain, who had escaped alive from the murderous attacks of the
Warlattas.  Stuart would have lived affectionately in the remembrance
of those who were old enough to remember him as their deliverer on
two occasions from their enemies.

It was getting late, however, and Brown told them he would come back
after the sun went down, and left them, and rode hastily to camp.  It
did not take long to replace the packs on the horses, and by dusk
they were all at the lake.  The horses drank the water freely, and
were soon enjoying the young grass.  The number of the blacks had
been augmented by two gins, who had been digging roots on the other
side of the lake when Brown first appeared.

"I've another brilliant idea," said Brown, when they had finished
their meal.

"Let's have it," replied Morton.

"These poor beggars have evidently sought refuge in this howling
wilderness from the Warlattas.  As things go, I should not think it
was a very choice place of residence--they look miserable enough."

"I know what you are going to propose," interrupted Morton.  "Get
them on to the lake and let them mate up with the others."

"Exactly.  I think it feasible enough; we shall have to make this our
headquarters while we hunt up that reef.  We are not pressed for time
nor rations, thanks to the game at the lake."

"And we sha'n't find that reef in a day, either," returned Morton.
"We'll sleep on the idea."

Next morning Morton proposed an amendment.  Before the blacks left
(if they could induce them to do so), they should get the old man to
guide them to the soakage spring where Stuart camped the night after
he found the reef.  This would probably be on the usual route
travelled by the blacks, and would considerably contract the area of
their search.  While this was going on, Billy, who had learnt a
little of the lake language, would explain to the natives the
advantage of the change.

"We seem to be constituting ourselves a kind of special providence
for this part of the world," said Morton, as he finished.

"We have plenty of time to go to the spring to-day, if we can make
the old fellow understand what we want."

This they did after some trouble, but it was evident the native did
not enjoy the idea of going in that direction.  However, as the two
whites started with him he finally consented.  When about what they
considered half-way, Morton and Brown parted, Brown going on with the
blackfellow, and Morton intending to devote a few hours to searching
around and then returning to the salt lake.  He found no indications,
however, to reward his trouble.

Brown turned up early the next day, the old fellow having travelled
sturdily.  He had found the spring well supplied with fresh water,
but had vainly tried to get anything out of his guide of a heap of
white stones anywhere in the neighbourhood of the track they
followed.  However, Brown thought by the formation of the country
about the spring that they could trace the line back.

"How have you got on with these fellows with regard to an exodus.
This old fellow knows all about the lake, but I don't think he has
been there."

"Oh, Billy has turned out a splendid orator.  He has been
gesticulating to them, and fired their imaginations with his
descriptions of thousands of wild ducks and millions of fish," said
Charlie.

"Now, who is to go back and introduce them to their future
companions?"

"I'm all right now," returned Charlie; "Billy and I will shepherd
them across."

"It's a good road all the way, I think you will manage it," replied
Morton.  "How about Lee-lee?"

"We must take him with us when we go out reef-hunting.  He might run
away if left by himself here," said Brown.

"He is a pretty cute fellow and will help us, if we make him
understand what we are looking for.  Our camp and horses will be safe
enough all day; for, one way and another, the district is getting
pretty well depopulated."

The arrangements were so decided on, and the next morning, under
convoy of Charlie and Billy, the survivors of the mountain tribe
departed for the promised land flowing with birds and fish.  After
their custom the gins were loaded up with what little camp furniture
they possessed, while the lordly male strode along with nothing but a
boomerang and a small throwing-stick, without which no
self-respecting blackfellow would be seen.

Charlie, however, equalized matters by putting what he could on one
of the pack-horses, and giving the gins a chance.

Morton, Brown, and Lee-lee set out in the opposite direction.  The
first day they exhaustively searched for some distance on either side
of the track taken by Brown and the old man, but reached half-way to
the spring without finding out anything, and returned to the salt
lake.  Next day Brown proposed that they should go straight to the
spring and work back.  This they did, taking a pack-horse with
rations, and leaving a note for Charlie in a conspicuous place, lest
they should be detained and he should come back before they did.

The spring was at the foot of a small hillock strewn with granite
boulders.  They turned out the horses and started on foot to try and
follow the line of country whereon rock was visible on the surface.
They managed with great care to keep to it until it was time to
return.  Next morning they took their horses and rode out to where
they had left off.  In the middle of the day they turned out for a
spell, having been encouraged by finding occasional belts of quartz
and slate crossing the granite formation.

As they were smoking after their meal, Lee-lee, who was sauntering
about, came back, and pointing on ahead, indicated that a heap of
white stones was there.  Both men got up, and in a few steps saw an
outblow of quartz about a hundred yards away.  Hastening to it, they
were soon busy breaking stones and investigating.

They soon found that they had struck Stuart's reef, or an outcrop on
the same line.  The stone appeared to the finders fabulously rich,
some of it being powdered throughout with gold.

"Well, I suppose there's a fortune or two there," said Brown when
their inspection was over.  "But it's in a deuce of an outlandish
place."

"Wonder how far we are across the border into Western Australia?"

"A good way, I expect; but we will keep the reckoning very carefully
as we go back."

"We have got all we want now; we will pick out the best of the
specimens and take them with us."

"Yes; and go straight back to the salt lake and wait for Charlie."

Picking out the richest and smallest specimens, they packed them on
the pack-horse and struck in for the salt lake on a compass line.
This gave them the bearing from the salt pan, and was all they wanted
to find the place again.

Charlie did not return for a couple more days, but as they had
instructed him to take things easy, they did not feel anxious.

He had taken his convoy safely to the lake, and duly introduced the
survivors of the two tribes.  Billy and he waited a day to make sure
that amicable relations were properly established and had then
returned, everything being peaceful and satisfactory.

Another start was now made for the spring, Brown, Billy, and Lee-lee
going straight there with the pack-horses, and Morton taking Charlie
round by the reef to show him the rich find.

From the top of the hillock at the back of the spring the country
looked scrubby, waste, and desolate; but the outlook was not
extensive, and they could see nothing of the mountain they were
making for.  It behoved them, then, to be very careful, for the
country ahead was evidently very dry, and the direction to the creek
with the brackish water in it, of the vaguest.

They had a good many things at stake, the safety of Stuart's journal
containing the solution of the Leichhardt mystery, and the knowledge
of the gold reef.  They did not, then, wish to meet with any disaster
on their homeward way.

"This is not an exciting sort of road," said Brown, as they turned
from fruitlessly scanning the ocean of dull gray tree-tops, "but I
think it is a little superior to that abominable desert."

"Yes, we'll patronize this track if ever we come back here; and I
suppose we shall come some day to sink on that reef, and see if it
goes down."

"If that is the only big show, the gold will be pretty dear before we
get it home; but if there is plenty more about, you will soon see a
road out here and a township too."

"Go on.  A railway, and those gas-lamps and bridges you reported
seeing in the scrub."

"Why not?  Both you and I have seen those things spring up like magic
in Australia, before now."

"Well, I hope our luck will stick to us to-morrow and see us on to
that creek."



CHAPTER XXIII.

The Dry Creek--Brown has a Solitary Camp--A Mysterious Light


"It is unfortunate," said Morton the next morning when they were
preparing to start, "that Stuart did not give a description of the
creek, or of the water where they camped the next night."

"Yes, it's rather a game of blindman's-buff, for they may have gone
north or south of the direct line."

"How far do you make it to the mountain direct?" asked Brown.

A rough chart, compiled every night by dead reckoning, had been kept
since they started, and Morton had been working it up the night
before.

"Over one hundred miles; and if it is scrub all the way, with sand
underfoot, equal to one hundred and fifty."

"No good, then, our striking straight for the mountain and trusting
to chance for finding water on the way?"

"Too risky altogether.  We must find this brackish creek somehow."

"We can't get back the way we came to the lake, for the last water we
camped at must be bone dry by this time."

"How about going round by Hentig's grave if we are beaten back
utterly?"

"Yes, as a last resource, we might try that.  Lee-lee could not help
us, for I don't think he ever stirred far from that lagoon where you
found him."

"Let us trust to our lucky star and get on anyhow," returned Morton
as he swung himself into his saddle, and they were soon filing slowly
through the scrub.

The scrub consisted of mulga and a dense undergrowth of lance wood,
so that the progress made was very slow.  Moreover, it was a
difficult thing to keep a straight course amongst so many obstacles.
With the exception that the scrub was sometimes denser than usual
they experienced no change, until about two o'clock, when they
emerged into a small open space, and Charlie exclaimed that they had
come to a graveyard.

The clearing they had entered was a white clay flat, sparsely grown
over with spinifex, and covered with ant-hills about three feet in
height, bearing a startling resemblance to the headstones of graves.

The party halted, partly to discuss their movements, and partly to
have something to eat.  Morton, who finished first, mounted his horse
and rode in a southerly direction, telling the others he would be
back directly.

"The scrub is thinner to the south-east," he said when he came back,
"and beyond I can see another flat like this.  I vote we shift our
course for a few miles.  This change of country may mean that the
creek is somewhere about here."

Brown agreed to this, and Morton went ahead.

Passing through a belt of scrub they came to another flat like the
one they had left, but somewhat larger.  From this they passed
through thinner belts of scrub until the flat became continuous,
still, however, covered with the ant-hills.

Presently Morton pointed ahead, and a line of creek gums of no great
height was now visible.  The creek was bordered by a sandy flat with
some coarse grass on it.  The water-course was shallow, crossed here
and there by bars of sandstone rock; but it was as dry as though
water had never been in it for years.  It ran easterly.

"This is a lively look-out," said Morton.  "Shall we follow this
creek down, or camp here and one go up and one go down the creek?"

"If we find nothing wet we must retreat to the spring to-morrow
morning."

"We must; but if we all go on down the creek and find nothing wet, as
you express it, we shall be too far to retreat."

"Does not this creek come from much the same direction we came from?"
asked Charlie.

"If it keeps the same course as it runs here, it does," replied
Morton.

"We are just as likely to find water up as down," went on Charlie;
"but if we follow it up we shall be getting nearer to the spring
instead of away from it, and if we don't find water can easily cut
across to it."

"And have much better travelling-ground along this flat," said Brown.
"Charlie, my boy, we shall make a first-class bushmen of you before
we get home.  A1, copper-fastened at Lloyds."

Charlie's suggestion was unanimously accepted, and the party turned
up the creek, making for the westward again.  Morton elected to
follow the bed of the creek, whilst the others kept as straight a
course as they could along the flat.

The creek still continued dry, and no birds of any kind were
visible--a bad sign.  Like most creeks running through the level
interior it gave indications every now and then of running out
altogether.  At last, however, it grew narrower and deeper, and
Morton saw a group of gum-trees ahead, somewhat taller than those
lining the banks.  There was a small bar of rocks across the channel,
and when he rode over this he saw a pool of water before him fringed
with green reeds.  The water looked strangely clear as he rode down
to it; his horse put his head down to drink, but lifted it at once
with a dissatisfied snort.

"I guess what's up," thought Morton, dismounting.  He stooped and
lifted some water to his lips with his scooped hand.

"Bah!"  It was salter than brine.

Remounting, he rode up the bank and called to the others, who were
visible slightly ahead.  They waited when they saw him riding towards
them.

"I think we had better ride straight for the spring," he said;
"there's water down there, but it's salter than the Pacific Ocean."

"We have good travelling along here," replied Brown.  "I think we
ought to keep on here as far as we can and then strike off for the
spring.  It doesn't much matter about water now, for the spring can't
be many miles off."

"You follow the creek, then, for a bit; you seem luckier than I am.
It does not much matter about the water, as you say, but I should
like to know whether there was any fresh water in it as well as salt."

Brown went off to the creek and they once more started, until Morton
calculated that a short three miles through the scrub which was
running parallel to them would bring them to the spring.  He shouted
to Brown and fired his revolver, and when Brown joined them they
turned off and reached the spring at dusk.

"Back for the first time," said Morton, as they unpacked at their old
camp.  "I wonder how many times we shall have to return here."

"Lucky we have such a good camp to stand by us," answered Brown.  "We
can always get from here to the lake."

The next thing to consider was their movements for the morrow.
Morton suggested that perhaps the clay formation altered the
conditions of the creek, and below, the water, if not fresh, was at
least only brackish.

"I doubt it," said Brown; "these clay formations generally carry
salt."

"One of us had better take Billy and a couple of horses packed with
water.  Let Billy go about twenty miles, then, whoever goes on, give
his horse a couple of bags of water and hang the others up on the
branch of a tree against his return."

"That's the only safe way," replied Brown.  "Who is to go, you or I?"

"You're the lucky one."

"No.  You found Lee-lee; let's toss up."

"That's all right, but where's the coin?"

"Rather good," laughed Brown.  "Men with a rich reef in their
possession and can't raise a copper to toss with."

"We must shake in the hat," replied Morton.

He tore up a leaf of his note-book, made a mark on one scrap, doubled
them up and shook them together in his hat.

Brown drew the marked paper, and chose to go.

"Don't run away with my share of the reef while I am away," he said
as he got on his horse early the next morning, and, followed by Billy
driving the two horses, was soon lost to sight in the scrub.

"We may as well go out and amuse ourselves at the reef," said Morton;
"we can do nothing until he comes back."

They saddled up, and spent the best part of the day in knocking
stones out and breaking them, returning in the evening with a few
extra rich specimens to add to those they already had.

"If we show these specimens when we get home, won't somebody suspect,
and follow our tracks back?" said Charlie.

"If we are fools enough to show them," replied his cousin; "but we'll
take all sorts of good care that we don't, until we are ready to come
out ourselves, and have pretty well located the place.  If Brown does
not turn up before morning, we will go out again to-morrow and see if
we can trace the reef any further."

Billy turned up with the two horses just at dusk.  He had accompanied
Brown some miles beyond where they turned back, but there had been no
change in the creek as far as he went.

Brown, meanwhile, kept on down the creek after parting with the
blackboy.  It continued enlarging, and contracting again, in the
eccentric manner of an inland water-course, but there was no sign of
water, fresh or salt.

The silence, lifelessness, and the gloomy neighbourhood of the scrub
on one side of him naturally affected his spirits, and when night
fell the sense of loneliness was increased.  As it was useless going
on in the dark, he determined to give his horse a few hours' rest and
then go back.

"The moon rises at twelve o'clock," he thought; "if I start then, I
shall get back to the water-bags by daylight."

He short-hobbled his horse, sat down at the foot of a tree with his
saddle at his back, and lit his pipe.  The great stillness of the
desert surrounded and oppressed him with the intensity of its
silence.  Not a leaf rustled, not a night bird could be heard; the
jingle of his horse's hobble-chain, and his munching as he cropped
the grass, was a welcome sound in that dreary waste.  No one knows
what a companion a horse is until he has passed a few solitary nights
in the uninhabited bush of the interior.  Gradually Brown felt sleep
stealing over him.

"I can afford to doze," he thought.  "I'm pretty uncomfortable, so I
sha'n't sleep long."

His head fell back on his saddle, and he was soon fast asleep.  He
awoke suddenly, feeling stiff and unrefreshed.  Springing to his
feet, he listened for the sound of his horse; but everything was
still.

"What a fool I was to go to sleep!" he thought.  "I expect my old
prad has made back up the creek, and I shall have to stump it to the
camp.  Wonder what the time is."

He took his watch out of his pouch, and, the starlight not being
strong enough, struck a match.  Instantly he was agreeably startled
by a loud snort of surprise close to him, and his horse, who had been
lying down asleep, got on his legs and shook himself.  Brown felt so
relieved that he went over and patted and stroked him.

"I thought you had left me in the lurch, old fellow," he said, as he
slipped the bridle over his head, for it was nearly midnight, and he
thought he might as well make a start.  As he stood up after stooping
to take the hobbles off, his attention was attracted by a brightness
in the eastern sky.  "Moon rising," he thought, and led his horse to
the tree where his saddle was.

He saddled his horse and was about to mount, when he noticed that the
sky was no brighter, and the glow was reddish in colour.

"Moon's rather long-winded," he muttered, and stood there watching
for its appearance; but it obstinately refused to appear.



CHAPTER XXIV.

Fire to the East--Brown returns to the Spring--More Dry Creeks
Discovered.


Brown stood patiently waiting for some minutes, and then the truth
struck him.  It was not the moon rising; it was a bush fire, a long
distance away.

"Deuced queer," he thought, as he took out his compass, struck a
match, and took the bearing of the glow.  "It's too far for me to do
anything, even if I felt so inclined, which I don't.  Hullo! what's
this?"

A bright light suddenly gleamed through the trees a little to the
south of the other.  This, however, was the moon in reality, and
Brown turned his willing horse's head towards home, marvelling much
at what he had seen.

"Fires travel any distance in this unoccupied country," he thought,
"and that one may have come a hundred miles or more."

He reached the water-bags at sunrise, and gave his horse their
contents, then, having strapped them on to his saddle, rode on and
arrived at the camp at the spring about noon.

Morton could only account for the fire in the same way that Brown
did; that it must have travelled a long distance, and that its
presence did not denote the existence of water.  On his part Morton
was able to inform him that they had found another outcrop of the
reef that morning, nearly a quarter of a mile to the south, and it
appeared as rich as the one they had discovered first.

The waste ahead, however, still sternly confronted them.

"I wonder whether there is another creek further south that this one
runs into," said Morton; "or there may be one it joins to the north."

"Very likely; this creek that has been humbugging us does not look to
me like a main one, It nearly lost itself several times yesterday,
and when I camped it looked very sick."

"We can easily settle the question in a day; to-morrow one go north
and one south, as before."

"May I go this time?" said Charlie.

"You go north, and I'll go and crack stones at the new reef,"
returned Brown.

So it was settled, and they spent a lazy afternoon.

In the morning the two started in opposite directions, and Brown went
off to inspect the new find.

Charlie, having been strictly cautioned to trust to his compass only,
went due north, and for ten or twelve miles was surrounded by scrub.
Then he emerged in a strip of open country, and to his great joy saw
creek timber ahead.  This water-course was quite different to the one
they had been on--it was more like a chain of shallow lagoons, but
all were dry and parched.  Charlie followed it for some distance, but
there was no sign of moisture, and, elated at having something to
report, he made his way back to the spring.  Strange to say, when
Morton came in he too had found a similar creek to the south, but
also waterless.  Brown worked out the courses on a bit of paper.

"It strikes me," he said, "that these two creeks, if they run on as
they were running where you struck them, must junction in with the
creek I was on, not many miles below where I camped."

"Supposing we split up," said Morton.  "Say you and Charlie, with
half the spare horses, follow down the creek he found, and I and the
boys will follow down the one I found, with the rest of the horses.
We shall meet at the junction, if your theory is correct.  The party
who gets there first to wait for the others."

"But supposing there is no water in either of the creeks?"

"We can get back here."

"If your creek junctions in above ours, or _vice versa_, how is the
party who arrives at the lower junction to know that the other party
is waiting at the upper one?"

"Hum!" said Morton; "that rather capsizes the notion.  But I think we
can fix it by running the creek up and down a bit."

"Well, I'm willing," returned Brown.  "I don't think we are such
duffers as to miss each other if we get anywhere within a few miles."

In the morning the plan mooted was carried out, and they left the
spring, as they hoped, for good that journey.  The creek Brown and
Charlie followed proved to be very serpentine in its course.  When
they stopped for a mid-day spell Brown worked out the dead reckoning,
and came to the conclusion that although they had come over fifteen
miles in distance, they had not made more than ten in a direct
course.  Still the creek, on an average, was bearing in towards the
other one, and they reckoned they must strike it late in the
afternoon.

As they went on the flat grew wider and the empty water-holes further
apart, but everything bore the look of a prolonged drought.  At four
o'clock they sighted the other creek ahead, but there were no signs
of the others.

"Wonder how your cousin got on?" Brown said to Charlie.  "Hurrah!
there he is!" he returned, as a horseman came into sight riding down
the bank of the old creek.

Morton pulled up when he caught sight of them, and waited.

"Any water?" he asked when they came up.

"Not a drop.  I don't think there has been any in it since the time
of Noah's flood.  How did you get on?"

"There was no water in the creek we followed, but there is a decent
hole where it junctions with this one, about two miles up from here."

"Salt?"

"No, quite drinkable--a slight sweet taste about it."

"I expect there's more water in it than when Stuart was here: these
holes get salter as they dry up.  Do you think it is the hole he was
at?"

"I think it must be," returned Morton, as they turned and rode up the
creek.  "We ought to be able to get through to the mountain now, even
if we don't come across that clay-pan."

"That's good news, at any rate.  Did you see anything of that fire?"

"There appears to be a heavy bank of smoke to the eastward, but we
must try and find a tree this evening to have a look-out from."

The camp was a fairly good one, although the grass was somewhat dry.
After some searching Brown and Morton found a gum-tree which they
could climb, but it was not of a sufficient height to afford them a
good view of the surrounding country.  They made out, however, that
an extensive bush fire was raging to the eastward, and when it fell
dark the glow was plainly visible.  Brown said it was not as bright
as when he saw it, as though the fire was now working away from them.

The following day they started on a straight course for the mountain
on the creek, and rode the whole day through a barren region of
scrub.  That night the horses had to be tied up to trees, for there
was neither grass nor water for them.  However, they felt sure of
arriving at the creek the next day.

"We ought to be getting to that big plain pretty soon," said Morton
in the morning, as they were making an early start.  "That is, if our
reckoning is anyway near the mark."

They had scarcely been travelling an hour, when they suddenly rode
from the scrub on to the plain, and before them in the distance, with
a black haze of smoke as a background, was the mountain they were
making for.  The fire was seemingly beyond the mountain, as the
plain, although covered with dry grass which would have burnt freely
enough, had not been burnt.

Once out of the scrub they travelled more rapidly, and in the
afternoon once more camped at the base of the mountain.  All the
eastern side of the creek was burnt bare, and when they ascended the
hill they could see that the fire had ravaged most of the spinifex
scrub and burnt up the country to the north.  The outlook was even
drearier than before, for the heat and flames had scorched the leaves
of the low trees, and nothing but an expanse of dead foliage was
beneath them.

Fortunately there was good feed for their horses on the bank of the
creek and the islands in its bed, and as the last two days had been
rather severe on them, they decided to rest for a few days and
inspect the surrounding country, although it held out little
inducement.  However, they preferred stopping at where they were to
going back to their old camp at the lagoons, where probably all the
grass was burnt.  The first thing to do was to jot down the whole of
their course since leaving the lagoons and correct it, which they
were now able to do, as they had arrived back at a known point.  They
found that the dead reckoning had been very well kept, and that their
work closed in a satisfactory manner.

An excursion down the creek on the following day convinced them that
it ran out and was hopelessly lost in the sandy scrub that stretched
south and east.  Next morning Morton was up early at break of day,
and climbing up the hill to reach the summit before sunrise, which is
the best time to see long distances.  To the east the fire was still
burning in the distance, but was evidently now in a dying state.
Morton had his glasses with him, and commenced to carefully scan the
country.  At last his attention became fixed on one particular spot
to the south.  He took a compass-bearing and descended the hill.  The
others were up, and about to commence breakfast.

"I've spotted that rock hill," said Morton.

"What!  The one Stuart says the old blackfellow told him about?"

"I think so.  You can't pick it out with the naked eye, but with the
glasses I can make it out quite distinctly.  A brown naked cone
rising out of the scrub."

"How far away is it?"

"Not more than fifteen miles, I should say.  I wonder that none of
the niggers were able to take Stuart to it."

"Do you intend going?"

"We may as well.  I should like to know all about the place before we
go home."

"Well, I'm with you, old man."

Next morning they started on Morton's compass-bearing.  The distance
was about what he judged, and they made a very fair course.

The rock, surrounded by a small area of open country, rose in a
round-topped peak to an altitude of about one hundred and fifty feet.
The granite sides were smooth and naked, and the two white men, after
hanging their horses to a small cork-tree, climbed to the summit.
Brown, who had been in Western Australia before, had seen these
granite formations peculiar to that colony, but to Morton they were a
new phenomenon.  From the top they had a good clear view all round.
Scrub, east and south, still stretched before them.  Presently they
both at the same time noticed a clear space west of south, in which
there was a sparkle like a reflection from the sun.  Morton turned
the glasses on it.

"Salt lake," he said, after a pause.

Brown took the glasses and looked.

"Yes, another salt lake, there's no doubt.  We'll take the bearings
and apparent distance; it's just as well to have all these things
down."

"Not worth while going over to it," said Morton.

They descended the hill and rode round it to see if there were any of
the holes on the base of the mound, such as are often found.  In this
case there were two or three, but all small and dry.

"I don't see any good in going into that scrub to the east," said
Morton as they rode home; "we'll make a start the day after
to-morrow."

Brown agreed with him, and they reached camp in good time.



CHAPTER XXV.

The Attack by the Surviving Warlattas--Death of Lee-lee--The Last of
the Cannibals.


Next morning was a lazy one.  About eleven o'clock Morton, who was
talking to Brown under the shade of a tree, proposed that they should
kill a few hours by a ride up the creek, and called to Billy to bring
up a couple of horses.  Charlie, who was in the tent, sung out in
reply that he had gone hunting with Lee-lee, as their clothes were
lying on the ground,--for a blackfellow always likes to strip
whenever he gets a chance.

"I will go and get the horses, they are just down the creek," said
Charlie, when he heard what his cousin wanted.

He picked up two bridles and went off down the creek.

Brown and Morton put their saddles down in readiness.

The horses were not far, and Charlie soon came back leading two.  He
had almost reached the camp when a shrill yell of terror made them
all start.

Out from the forest came Billy, racing and shouting, and behind him
limped Lee-lee.  There was no need to ask what it meant; behind them,
in close pursuit, came other dark forms with up-raised spears.

"Those Warlattas!" yelled Brown, as he and Morton sprang for their
rifles.  Charlie was transfixed with surprise.  Two of the cannibals,
with their spears up, were now close to the fugitives, the others
pressing on so eagerly that they did not see the white men.  It all
seemed to Charlie to pass like a flash.  The spears flew, and the
rifles cracked so closely one after the other that it sounded almost
like one report.  Down went Billy and Lee-lee, and the two Warlattas
behind them pitched forward headlong on the ground.  Startled by the
firearms the others halted, turned and fled.  But the breech-loaders
spoke once more, and one Warlatta fell with a broken leg, and the
other dropped in a heap and lay quiet, with a conical bullet between
his shoulders.

"Quick! not one must get away," said Morton, and he and Brown
snatched the bridles from Charlie's hand, and jumping on bare-backed,
galloped like avenging furies after the two retreating survivors.
"Look after Billy!" yelled Morton to Charlie, as he urged his excited
horse along.

The blacks fled into the forest, but the cover came too late for
them, with two of the best riders in central Australia thirsting for
their blood.  Charlie, as he went down to Billy, saw his cousin race
up to one man and they disappeared between the trees, but the report
of a revolver immediately after told its tale.  Next minute came two
more pistol-shots from the direction Brown had gone.

Billy had sat up by the time Charlie reached him; he had been speared
in the leg, but poor Lee-lee was dead.  The spear of the Warlatta had
pierced his heart.

Morton's and Brown's voices were now heard coming back.  They pulled
up at the wounded savage, and Morton slipped from his horse.  Charlie
turned his head away, for he guessed what was going to happen.  No
quarter for the cannibals.  He heard the revolver ring out, and knew
that Lee-lee was avenged.

His cousin came up, leading his horse and putting his revolver back
in his pouch.  Both men were flushed, and their eyes still blazed
with the fierce light of conflict.

"Poor Lee-lee!" said Brown, as they stood beside his body.  "We seem
to have been his evil genius."

"We've been the evil genius of the Warlattas, thank goodness," said
Morton grimly.  "They're all wiped out now, however."

The tragedy affected them all strongly.  The unfortunate half-caste
meeting his death in such an unexpected manner, when all seemed safe
and at peace, was sad.

Billy, however, demanded their attention.  Fortunately the spear was
not a barbed one, and had only gone into the fleshy part of his
thigh.  It was soon extracted, the wound bound up, and he was made as
comfortable as possible.

Billy explained that he and Lee-lee were on their way home when they
saw the Warlattas, who had evidently been stalking them for some
time.  Had Billy been armed with firearms he might have frightened
them away; but as he had nothing but a tomahawk, he thought
discretion the better part of valour and ran for it, forgetting in
his excitement that Lee-lee was lame and could not keep up with him.

They buried the last poor relic of Leichhardt's doomed party at the
foot of the mountain, but the bodies of the Warlattas were left to
the crows and hawks.

"Perhaps it is all for the best, sad as it seems," said Morton.
"Those six devils could not keep their lust for murder under, and but
for this row we might not have run across them.  Then they would have
gone to the lake again and finished their villainous work."

"I wonder where they got their weapons from."

"There must have been some left in the bottle tree camp in the
basalt.  We did not look about much, if you remember."

"Well, that's the end of it all, I suppose."

"Unless somebody comes across Lee-lee's brothers or sisters amongst
the tribe to the north."

The party perforce had now to remain where they were until Billy was
able to ride again, and a dull time it was.  A trip to the hot swamp
showed them that, during their absence at the lake, the water had
subsided and the swamp become so dry that the fire had ravaged it,
burning the ragged, inflammable bark of the trees, and licking up the
reeds surrounding the lakelet, which was now but a surface of cracked
mud.

"There is one question that always worries me," said Brown, as they
came to the spot where the Warlatta track led into the basalt rocks.
"Do you think that Murphy was compelled to join in their cannibal
feasts?"

"I have thought of it too," replied Morton, "and have come to the
conclusion that he was not.  At least, while he retained his reason.
When we saw him, you know, he was nearly blind, and his mental
faculties almost gone.  My reason for this is the anchor we found cut
on the tree at the lagoons; I daresay there were more, and there were
numberless marks of the others.  There was an ample game supply up
and down that creek, and I believe he spent most of his time there
hunting, until he became too infirm to leave the cave."

"I am glad you think that, as I am of the same belief.  I think any
white man, no matter how slow his intellect, would prefer death."

"Still, cases have been known where men have been maddened by
starvation in an open boat at sea; but in this case he would not have
been desperate with hunger.  No, I think, and am glad to think, that
he had no part in their evil doings or rites until he was
irresponsible for his actions."

"They would not have allowed him to go with them on their raids for
fear of his escaping.  Evidently they regarded him as a sort of
fetish."

They dismounted and hung their horses to a tree, and went a short
distance amongst the rocks.  As they advanced all signs of a track
disappeared, for the place became one jumbled mass of huge boulders
piled on top of one another, rough as a rasp underfoot, and baking
hot from the vertical sun.  What with the natural heat of the day and
the radiation from the rocks, they were soon glad to turn back to
where they had left their horses.

"No wonder poor Stuart, barefooted and alone, could not make his way
any distance," remarked Morton.

"I wonder what would have happened had he met the Warlattas?"

"He had established a good funk amongst them, and so he might have
routed them.  But if they had killed him, I swear a good many would
have lost the number of their mess first."

"It always makes me feel sad when I think of such a man being forced
by fate to spend his life amongst savages."

Billy's wound, like the flesh of most blackfellows, was rapidly
healing, but he was not yet able to ride.  The shadow cast on their
spirits by the murder of poor Lee-lee, rendered them all anxious to
be on the move and leave the ill-omened camp behind them.  The
weather had been continuously fine ever since they left.  That night,
however, a black thunder-storm gathered up, and towards evening the
heavens were overcast and the sky was one constant blaze of
lightning, and a continuous mutter of thunder sounded from all
points.  Every preparation had been made, and they watched with
interest the mustering of the storm spirits.

"I believe it's going to be one of those dry dust-storms after all,"
said Brown.

To the east every blaze of light now showed a low black cloud
approaching.

"It's the wind coming," said Morton, "bringing all the ashes from the
burnt country; we shall be smothered with dust and charcoal."

Even as he spoke there came a blinding glare of white light,
accompanied by a crash of thunder that seemed to shake the hill to
its foundation.  A rush of cold wind, bearing dust and ashes on its
wings, swept the camp and nearly carried away the tent.  Then the
rain fell in one heavy downpour.  For nearly an hour the deluge kept
up, the continuous flashes making it as bright as day, the constant
roar and rattle of the thunder never ceasing.  Then the tumult died
away in the west, the stars peeped out, and the tropical storm was
over.  Next morning the sky was clear and the air fresh and pleasant.

"I'm hanged if I can stop in camp any longer," said Morton.  "Billy,
if you don't get that 'mundoee' of yours well soon, we'll go away and
leave you here."

Billy looked rather askance at the threat, until he realized that
Morton was joking.

Brown, who had been surgeon, said: "I think we can rig up a sling or
cradle for his leg soon, so that he will be able to travel short
stages."

"I'm glad to hear it.  That thunder-storm must have put water into
the rock-holes at the granite rock.  What do you say to a ride there
and then on to the salt lake we saw at a distance?"

"Right; it will kill time.  But we'll start to-morrow; let the ground
dry up a bit.  We'll experimentalize on a cradle for Billy's leg
to-day."



CHAPTER XXVI.

Visit to the Southern Salt Lake--The Future of the Interior--A False
Alarm--Departure.


The cradle promised to be a success; so the next morning, taking some
rations in case they had to camp out, Brown and Morton left for the
rock.  The ground was still somewhat soft, but not enough to impede
their travelling, and they reached the granite rock early.  As they
had the bearing of the salt lake they did not climb the rock again,
but rode round the base to see if the holes were full.  They were all
brim-full, the sloping rock above acting like the roof of a house in
catching and shedding the rainfall.  They then struck out for the
salt lake, which they reached about one o'clock, passing through
sandy country all the way.  The lake was much larger than the one
they had camped at to the north, but the surrounding country was
barren and grassless.  Few signs of the former presence of the
natives were visible, and no indication of a well having been dug.
Evidently the soil was so impregnated with salt that not even
brackish water could be obtained.

"What a real desert!" said Brown, gazing round on the dreary scene.

"Yes, it's about as hopeless a looking picture as one could find
anywhere, at present.  And yet, if the artesian water is found to
extend throughout the interior, it will change the whole face of the
Australian earth in time.  This spinifex would not grow here, but
that the climate is so arid that nothing else will grow, and this
beastly stuff can thrive without any rain at all.  No, burn this
scrub off, or clear it somehow, and, with a good supply of artesian
water, there are a hundred and one payable products one could grow
here."

"You're an optimist, and an enthusiast at that."

"I am as regards the future of Australia.  I believe the end of the
coming century will see it settled from east to west throughout."

"If one could fill up all the dry creeks and lagoons we have passed
with your artesian water, we might modify the severity of the
climate."

"Yes.  Now, let's have a ride round this inland sea in miniature."

"It smells like the sea, at anyrate; I bet that water in there is
concentrated brine.  How about all this saline country?"

"It has been proved successfully that the date-palm will thrive on
the shores of these salt lakes, so they need not be quite barren."

Nothing of any interest was to be seen, and they retraced their steps
to the granite rock, where they watered their horses.  As there were
still a couple of hours of daylight, they started back for their camp.

"Fancy if we had left the camp like this, forgetting all about those
six Warlattas hanging about.  What a massacre they would have had!"
said Brown, as they rode on.

"Yes, it makes me shudder to think of our carelessness; for we ought
to have remembered there was danger to be expected from them."

When it fell dark they found themselves still some three miles from
home, and the darkness somewhat retarded them in the scrub.
Suddenly, when nearing the mountain, a rifle-shot was heard ahead,
followed soon after by a different report, like that of a shot-gun.

"Good God! what can be up?" exclaimed Morton.

Both men fired their revolvers as a signal that they were near, and
pushed on as hastily as they could.  As soon as the open country was
reached they galloped straight for the camp.  Everything appeared
peaceful enough, and Charlie seemed surprised at their hasty approach.

"What were you firing at?" asked Morton, rather crossly, for no man
likes to be flurried by a false alarm.

"Well, I don't know exactly," replied Charlie.  "I had given you up
for to-night, and was sitting out here with Billy, when he called out
that there was something moving on the rocks over there.  I looked,
and could indistinctly make out some dark figure moving about, so I
challenged; getting no answer, I fired my rifle in the air.  Whatever
it was they started away, but in a few minutes came back again, so I
fired the shot-gun at them and they departed.  Billy called out they
were 'Jinkarras!' and covered his head with the blanket, and I expect
he has it there now."

"What were they like?" asked Brown.

"It was too dark to see, but they were certainly not natives, unless
we have run across a race of dwarfs."

Billy, on being induced to take his head from underneath the blanket,
asserted stoutly that they were Jinkarras they had seen; that he
ought to know, as when he was a child he had been carried off by one
in the night.

"How did you get back, Billy?" asked Morton.

Billy commenced a long rambling yarn about waking up to find himself
being carried along by a short, hairy man with red eyes; but his tale
ended somewhat lamely, for his next remembrance was of finding
himself in the familiar family camp, with his mother administering
severe slaps with the small end of a nulla-nulla.  Still he persisted
in his statement that there were Jinkarras, and that they lived
underground.

"I shouldn't wonder," suddenly exclaimed Brown, "if this legend of
the Jinkarras, which is common all over the central portion of
Australia, was not a surviving tradition, much distorted, of our dear
old friends the devil worshippers."

"Not at all unlikely.  We will run this particular brand of Jinkarra
to earth in the morning," answered Morton.

Charlie was out before breakfast to inspect the ground where he had
seen the figures in the night; but beyond a few good-sized boulders,
which he was certain he had not fired at, he failed to discover any
marks of a nocturnal visit.

Morton went out after breakfast, and immediately saw what had caused
the alarm.  He called Charlie over and pointed the tracks out to him.

"This is a regular pad for the rock-wallabies," he said.  "Only it
has been covered up by the burnt ashes of the grass.  They were
coming in last night to feed on the young grass on the bank of the
creek, just springing after the rain.  I suppose some of them hopped
on to these boulders."

This explanation failed to satisfy Billy, who was still convinced
that the Jinkarras were about, and was now anxious to get away.

They devoted themselves to finishing the sling for his leg, and made
him take a short ride two or three times, to get accustomed to it and
find out if it hurt him.

It was with feelings of great thankfulness that they at last got
ready to make a final start and leave the place which had grown so
wearisome to them.  For the sake of making it easy for Billy, they
intended to take two days on the journey to the lagoons, so they
camped the first night on the creek above what had been the hot swamp.

The next night they reached the familiar camp at the lagoons, and now
felt that they were finally on the homeward track.  They had made a
rude pair of crutches for the black boy, and he was now able to limp
about on, what he called, his "waddy-mundoees".

As a matter of satisfaction they spelled a day, for although the
grass had all been burnt by the fire, there was still good feed on
the banks of the lagoons.  This day was devoted to thoroughly
examining the trees up and down the creek, and they were able to
partly confirm their conjectures about Murphy, by finding the anchor
marked on several more trees.

The thunder-storm had filled the small hole they stopped at when they
first sighted the plain and the great limestone rock, so they made a
short stage there to give Billy every chance.  From what they
remembered of the nature of the country, there was not likely to be
any water retained along the scrub track.

They were all on the look-out during the next morning for the spot
where they first encountered the Warlattas.  When they reached it
they found that the corpse was gone, the six men despatched having
seemingly done their duty and taken it on to the burying-place.

"I suppose," said Brown, "that it was only men of importance amongst
them that they took the trouble to carry all this way.  What did they
do with the others?"

"I forgot all about it," exclaimed Charlie.

They both looked at him in surprise.

"When I was down that hole, the first one, not the tunnel affair, I
saw some bones and skulls amongst the boulders.  I think it was that
which frightened Billy so.  I could only see a few, but there might
have been thousands, for everything was smothered with mud and our
candles did not give much light."

"At that rate, the rank and file were thrown into the boiling spring
when they pegged out," said Morton.

"Seemingly so," answered his friend.  "But we must push on, we have a
good step ahead of us."

The horses went merrily along the cleared track, and as Billy showed
no signs of fatigue they made capital progress.  As they anticipated,
the cleared track led them straight on to the open patch of downs
country where the cemetery was.  A great surprise awaited them.  The
fire had swept up from the south, and the whole country was black.
More than that, the fierce flames had attacked the dry boughs forming
the scaffolds whereon the dead bodies had been bestowed, and now, all
that was to be seen were half-charred bones lying here and there.

"It seems that Fate meant to destroy all traces of the Warlattas in
one act," said Morton, as they sat on their horses and gazed at all
that was left of the cemetery of the cannibals.

"How was it this never happened before?" remarked Brown.

"I don't understand.  They must have kept it burnt down short every
year, and neglected it for some reason.  However, I'm not sorry, for
if this country extends any distance south I shall take it up."

"Well, let's get to camp before it's dark.  There will be enough
grass unburnt about the waterhole for our horses to-night."

This proved to be the case, and the cheery camp-fire was soon blazing
brightly and everybody chatting in good spirits.

"If you think seriously of taking up this bit of country, we might as
well explore it to-morrow now we are here.  The horses will be better
for the rest, for remember, as far as we know, there is not a drop of
water between here and the station--a good hundred miles," said Brown.

"That thunder-storm has been along here by the look of it.  It should
have put some water in some of those clay-pans we passed."

"Thunder-storms are mighty uncertain things to trust to.  They
generally fall, as a rule, just where they are no good to any one.
We must travel, when we start, as though it was dry the whole way,
although I think with you that we shall find water."

"As it now stands," said Morton, drawing his blanket over his
shoulders, "the only real evidence we have to show that the Warlattas
ever existed, is this cleared road in the scrub."

"And the wound in Billy's leg," murmured Charlie, drowsily.



CHAPTER XXVII.

Home Again.


The trip next morning was a promising one.  The creek kept a
continued and well-watered course for about fifteen miles, running
through well-grassed downs country all the way.  The place was burnt
black with the fire, but that did not hide the value of the country.
Gradually the scrub, which they had lost sight of for some time,
closed in on both sides, and it was evident that the creek would soon
run out, once it entered the scrub.  They were back in camp in time
to take a short ride up the creek, and ascertain that there was
nothing worth troubling about in that direction.  Brown fossicked out
the remains of the brandy when they had finished their meal.

"Now, then," he said, when they had all put some in their pannikins,
"we must christen the new run.  What's it to be?  You speak first,
Charlie."

"Warlatta Downs."

"Good!" said Morton; "we can't better that.  Here's good luck to
Warlatta Downs."

"Now for the gold reef," said Brown.

There was silence whilst each thought of a suitable name.

"Suppose we call it after Stuart, who was really the first finder of
it."

"The Stuart Reef, then, and here's to his memory."

They drank the toast in silence.

"That reminds me," remarked Brown, "that portion of the diary
relating the finding of the gold reef must be carefully eliminated
from the original journal and our copies."

"We'll set about it now, to make sure.  We can restore it at any time
when needful; meantime we don't want anybody to jump our claim."

They soon had the work finished, and the part taken out was carefully
put away.

"One more night and home," said Charlie delightedly the next morning
as they mounted.  "I never thought so much of the old station before."

The belt of scrub had still to be passed which had proved such a
terror on their outward way.  Sorely did they miss the well-cleared
track of the Warlattas.  Luckily the thunderstorm had extended most
of the way, and they reached home by easy stages.

"We have not lost a single horse in spite of all the dry and desert
country we have negotiated," said Morton, as they rode over the
familiar ground some miles away from the station.

"No; that's something to boast of.  Those long spells we had at
different places were the salvation of our nags," replied Brown.

Their return that night caused great excitement on the station.  The
men had been getting impatient and anxious, and were thinking of
starting on their tracks to see if they had come to grief.

Every Australian bushman knows the story of Leichhardt, and when the
men heard that the mystery of his fate and of those who accompanied
him had been at last solved, they felt that a reflected glory was
shed on all connected with the station.

Billy had a great reception from his countrymen camped about the
station.  He exhibited his wound, and let it be generally understood
that he had wiped out the Warlatta tribe single-handed, although they
were all giants over seven feet high.  Fortunately he knew nothing of
the gold reef, so was not able to dilate on that; but the story of
the lake and the caves there lost nothing by telling, but he quite
forgot to mention his fright in the underground tunnel.

The news of their successful trip and interesting discoveries was
soon flashed along the overland telegraph-line.  It was
enthusiastically received by some and scornfully doubted by others,
as is usual in these cases.  Brown regretted that they had not had a
camera, and brought a few pictures back with them; but as the
authenticity of the documents have been since universally admitted,
the scoffers are confounded.

As yet they are awaiting their time before returning to open up the
reef, which they anticipate will be found to be joined by a line of
auriferous country with the rich gold discoveries lately made in
Western Australia.



THE END.




*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The secret of the Australian desert" ***

Copyright 2023 LibraryBlog. All rights reserved.