Twice Lost

by William Henry Giles Kingston

My mother and Edith, on hearing from Popo that the boat had arrived, came out of the house and gave me the same report. They had been busily engaged for the last two days in preparing for our intended journey, as had also the men in the camp.

On my father’s return he expressed himself satisfied with what we had done, and accepted Mudge’s offer to go back again at once with another cargo of goods; while he himself proposed to remain with Pierce, Tom, and one of the other men; and I was to bring back the boat, which in her last trip was to carry up my father and mother and Edith, and the remainder of the goods and chattels we intended to remove.

We accordingly lost no time in again starting, as we did not wish to lose any of the daylight. For nearly two hours we had to pull on in the dark, and frequently it was so difficult to see our way that we had to advance cautiously. I sat in the bow, endeavouring to pierce the gloom, so as to catch sight of any danger ahead before we were upon it. Very thankful I was when I saw a bright glare cast over the water, and on the boughs and trunks of the surrounding trees, by Paddy Doyle’s camp-fire, and he and Harry answered my hail.

We soon made our way to the bank, when we found that they had been expecting us, and had prepared an ample supper of roast parrots and doves, with a pot of tea, and some cakes cooked in the ashes. They had also got ready our sleeping-places; so without loss of time we lay down to rest, intending to start again an hour before dawn, that we might, if possible, return before the close of the day.

I was so anxious to be off in time that I awoke even sooner than was necessary. I found Pullingo sitting up—not keeping watch, but stowing away in his capacious inside the remains of our supper, which I had intended for breakfast. Several birds which had been killed the previous day were hanging up, so I plucked and spitted them. I then aroused those of my companions who were to form the crew. We hurried over our breakfast; and making our way to the boat, began our downward voyage. As before, we had to proceed cautiously till daylight returned; we then made such good play that we reached the camp even before my father expected us.

He had just returned from a last trip to the downs. “No vessel anywhere in sight,” he said. “I very much fear that Brown and his party are lost; they must have encountered the gales we felt so severely here. I warned them of the danger they would run, but they would not believe me. Nevertheless, I am heartily sorry to think that they have probably been lost.”

I found that during our absence my father had done his utmost to secure the property we were to leave behind from being plundered by the natives. He had barricaded the doors and windows, both of the huts and the store-house, with pieces of timber fixed firmly in the ground and horizontal bars nailed across them, which we had hopes that the natives would not venture to remove.

The remainder of the articles we intended to carry with us were neatly done up in packages. We also took all our arms and ammunition, of which we had not more than would last us, we calculated, till we could hope to reach the settlements; indeed, it was the fear of this running short which made my father determine to commence our journey to the southward without further delay. While that lasted, we might amply supply ourselves with food, and with due precaution set the natives at defiance; but should that be exhausted, they, with their long spears and formidable boomerangs, would be superior to us in weapons of defence, while we should have no means of obtaining provisions. Had not the bushrangers carried off so much of our powder, we might have remained another month or two.

The boat was loaded without delay. Our last act was to collect all the vegetables fit for use in the garden, that we might have a supply of green food—at all events, for the first few days of our journey. Not without regret did we bid farewell to the spot which had afforded us shelter for so many weeks.

“Shove off,” said my father, as he seated himself at the helm, with my mother and Edith by his side, while the faithful Nanny crouched at my sister’s feet; and giving way, we commenced our voyage up the river. We took a look through an opening in the trees in the direction of the whale, round which the natives were still collected in vast numbers; and thankful were we to get away from them, for we had no doubt that as soon as they had eaten up the monster they would become troublesome. We should have been glad had we been able to penetrate farther to the west by water, as a glance at the map we had with us showed that we should still have a considerable amount of westing to make in our course to Sydney.