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.