About this time the girls showed me the steps of an Irish jig, which I quickly picked up and soon became quite an adept, much to the delight of the natives, who never tired of watching my gyrations. I kept them in a constant state of wonderment, so that even my very hair—now about three feet long—commanded their respect and admiration!
Sometimes I would waltz with the younger girl, whilst her sister whistled an old familiar air. When I danced, the blacks would squat in a huge circle around me; those in the front rank keeping time by beating drums that I had made and presented to them. The bodies of the drums were made from sections of trees which I found already hollowed out by the ants. These wonderful little insects would bore through and through the core of the trunk, leaving only the outer shell, which soon became light and dry. I then scraped out with my tomahawk any of the rough inner part that remained, and stretched over the ends of each section a pair of the thinnest wallaby skins I could find; these skins were held taut by sinews from the tail of a kangaroo. I tried emu-skins for the drum-heads, but found they were no good, as they soon became perforated when I scraped them.
Never a day passed but we eagerly scanned the glistening sea in the hope of sighting a passing sail. One vessel actually came right into our bay from the north, but she suddenly turned right back on the course she had come. She was a cutter-rigged vessel, painted a greyish-white, and of about fifty tons burden. She was probably a Government vessel—possibly the Claud Hamilton, a South Australian revenue boat stationed at Port Darwin—as she flew the British ensign at the mast-head; whereas a pearler would have flown it at the peak. The moment we caught sight of that ship I am afraid we lost our heads. We screamed aloud with excitement, and ran like mad people up and down the beach, waving branches and yelling like maniacs. I even waved wildly my long, luxuriant hair. Unfortunately, the wind was against us, blowing from the WSW. We were assisted in our frantic demonstration by quite a crowd of natives with branches; and I think it possible that, even if we had been seen, the people on the ship would have mistaken our efforts for a more hostile demonstration.
When it was too late, and the ship almost out of sight, I suddenly realised that I had made another fatal mistake in having the blacks with me. Had I and the two girls been alone on the beach I feel sure the officers of the ship would have detected our white skins through their glasses. But, indeed, we may well have escaped notice altogether.
There was a terrible scene when the supposed Government vessel turned back on her course and passed swiftly out of sight. The girls threw themselves face downwards on the beach, and wept wildly and hysterically in the very depths of violent despair. I can never hope to tell you what a bitter and agonising experience it was—the abrupt change from delirious excitement at seeing a ship steering right into our bay, to the despairing shock of beholding it turn away from us even quicker than it came.
CHAPTER XII
The girls in sun-bonnets—I advise the blacks—Fatal excitement—Last moments—The catastrophe—I cannot realise it—A fearful contrast—“Only a withered flower”—Bruno’s grief—Steering by the ant-hills—Avoiding the forests—Myriads of rats—The flowing of the tide—Rats and the native children—Clouds of locusts—Fish from the clouds.
The weeks gradually grew into months, and still we were apparently no nearer civilisation than ever. Again and again we made expeditions to see whether it were possible for the girls to reach Port Darwin overland; but, unfortunately, I had painted for them in such vivid colours the tortures of thirst which I had undergone on my journey towards Cape York, that they were always afraid to leave what was now their home to go forth unprovided into the unknown. Sometimes a fit of depression so acute would come over them, that they would shut themselves up in their room and not show themselves for a whole day.
We had a very plentiful supply of food, but one thing the girls missed very much was milk,—which of course, was an unheard-of luxury in these regions. We had a fairly good substitute, however, in a certain creamy and bitter-tasting juice which we obtained from a palm-tree. This “milk,” when we got used to it, we found excellent when used with the green corn. The corn-patch was carefully fenced in from kangaroos, and otherwise taken care of; and I may here remark that I made forks and plates of wood for my fair companions, and also built them a proper elevated bed, with fragrant eucalyptus leaves and grass for bedding. For the cold nights there was a covering of skin rugs, with an overall quilt made from the wild flax.
The girls made themselves sun-bonnets out of palm-leaves; while their most fashionable costume was composed of the skins of birds and marsupials, cunningly stitched together by Yamba. During the cold winter months of July and August we camped at a more sheltered spot, a little to the north, where there was a range of mountains, whose principal peak was shaped like a sugar-loaf.