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.