Twice Lost

by William Henry Giles Kingston

As soon as we had landed, my mother begged Mudge to ascertain, as far as he could, whether there were any natives in the neighbourhood; and if he was satisfied that there were none, to send the boat back to the brig—which was not visible from where we were, being hidden by the mangroves on the point at the northern side of the entrance to the river.

“The best way to ascertain that will be to climb to the top of the cliffs, as from thence I doubt not but I shall get a good view all over the country,” answered Mudge.

I begged to accompany him; and he giving directions to the men to land the stores and provisions, we set off.

When we reached the foot of the cliffs we found that it would be no easy matter to mount them; indeed, just above the landing-place they were almost perpendicular. By going westward—that is to say, up the stream—we found that they were more broken; and at length we discovered a part where, by means of the shrubs which projected from the crevices, we had hopes of being able to climb up to the top. I don’t know what landsmen might have done, but we, not to be deterred by difficulties or the fear of breaking our necks, commenced the ascent.

Up we went, now scrambling over the rocks, now swinging ourselves up by means of the shrubs, till we got to a break in the ground—probably in long ages past a water-course, when the ocean was flowing off the ground; now presenting a surface of undulating downs. The sides sloping gradually, we easily made our way among the bushes growing on them, till we stood on the downs I have just spoken of, on the top of the cliff. By proceeding back to the sea we reached the highest part, just above the landing-place.

Before leaving the vessel, Mudge had thoughtfully slung his telescope over his shoulder, and was thus able to take a wide survey of the country in every direction. We first looked towards the brig, which lay about a mile and a half to the north-east, in the position in which we had left her; the boat was alongside, and as far as we could make out, no effort was being made to get the vessel off.

“I doubt if any power will move her; or, if she were to be hauled off the rocks, whether she will keep afloat long enough to bring her into the harbour,” said Mudge, with a sigh. “It can’t be helped; and we should be thankful to have reached the shore with our lives, and to have a prospect of making our way in time to the settlements.”

“I am afraid that my father will be dreadfully cut up at the loss of the brig and so much of his property, even although we may manage to land the stores and part of the cargo,” I observed.

“He would have been more cut up had your mother and sister and you boys lost your lives, or been compelled to make a long voyage in the boats,—which might have been our fate had we not got so close inshore,” answered Mudge. “Again I say, let us be thankful for the mercies shown us, and make the best of our position.”

Mudge, while he was speaking, was sweeping his glass round from the coast-line to the northward, towards the interior of the country. I meantime was looking down on the party below the cliff, who were all busily employed in carrying the things up from the boat, and placing them close to the spot Mudge had already selected for pitching the tent—in the centre of the little peninsula. Though they were, I concluded, within musket-shot, they were too far off for an arrow to reach them; so that, even should the natives possess such weapons, our encampment could not be assailed from the top of the cliff. This was satisfactory, as it made the position we had chosen a very secure one.