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."
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.