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."
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.)