It was late and perfectly dark when we arrived at our old camp, where we had left our horses. I had been prudent enough to save a small piece of bread for myself, and I would have preferred as usual to share it with my men, but it was not enough to divide, and besides, I knew that the natives were able to endure hunger far better than I was.
As they had nothing to eat, I gave them a little tobacco, in order that they might have some comfort; but they put it away without smoking it, and soon laid themselves down by the fire to sleep the time away—a common habit of the blacks when it, for instance in the wet season, is difficult to secure food to allay their hunger.
We had left the horses in a place enclosed by nature in such a manner that they could not get away. It would, therefore, be an easy matter to find them, provided they had not been killed by the natives during our long absence. There was reason to suspect this, and we were agreeably surprised when, in the darkness of the night, we heard the tinkling of the bell, and the next morning found them all safe and sound.
Before sunrise the next morning Ganindali and I set out to hunt the wallaby, and near the camp we discovered a large number feeding on the grass, and shot two of them. Ganindali brought one to the camp, and asked one of his comrades to fetch the other, while he and the rest began to cook the first. This produced life in the camp! Within two minutes a splendid fire was burning. One of the animals was thrown upon the burning embers, and was turned by its long tail. Ganindali acted as chief cook. When the hair was scorched off the skin, the animal was dragged out of the fire. The belly was opened with a sharp stone, and the entrails were drawn out. Four red-hot stones replaced the bowels, and the animal was placed on the cinders. As soon as it was tolerably well roasted, the blacks attacked it most greedily and tore it into pieces.
Before long they had eaten their fill of the juicy meat; then they ran down to the river, waded a little way into the stream, and drank from the hollow of their hands. Having quenched their thirst, they returned in a leisurely way to the camp and resumed their eating. Then they sat down round the fire and began lighting their pipes. But they did not want to light their pipes with embers from the fire; they demanded matches. I did not as a rule give them matches when we sat round a blazing fire, but now, as our journey was nearly at an end, I did not begrudge them the pleasure of lighting their pipes in the same manner as the white man does, and of hearing the crack of a match. Meanwhile I, too, had finished my supper, and the unsavoury kangaroo flesh had a most excellent flavour on this occasion.
CHAPTER XVII
A wedding—Love among the Australian natives—My first meeting with Yokkai—Big eaters—An accident—Left alone with Yokkai—A difficult descent—Return to Herbert Vale—A new beetle—Friends of the animals.
On our return to Herbert Vale after a month’s absence the old keeper gave me an unusually friendly reception. He said he had repeatedly been on the point of sending some blacks to look for me, as he feared I might have been attacked by the natives.
I experienced great satisfaction in being able to sleep comfortably and safely once more.
The next day two natives came down from the mountains and reported that the blacks with two dogs “were killing and eating a lot of boongary up there.” The result was that I had to be off again, and I made haste to gather men and provisions; but the next day, just as we were ready to start, it began to rain. I feared that the rainy season had set in, and in that case it would be impossible to undertake an expedition. The rainy season usually lasts from three to four months, with slight interruptions, in Northern Queensland, generally commencing in January, and we were now at the beginning of this month. After a day or two, however, the rain ceased, and we started on our journey.