The Catalpa Expedition

by Zeph. W. Pease

Meanwhile the boat's crew sat huddled in the sand, apprehensive at the proceedings. The captain ordered them to push the boat into the water, each man to stand by the side of the boat, abreast his thwart. When he gave the order, he instructed them to shove the boat off as quickly as possible, to take the oars and pull. He cautioned them not to be afraid, whatever happened, at which the poor fellows looked at each other in consternation.

After an interval of fifteen minutes, which seemed much longer, a rattling of wheels and clatter of hoofs was heard, and Desmond and Breslin drove up with the prisoners, their horses quite exhausted.

As the prisoners jumped from the traps, their long linen coats blew open, showing their convict suits, with the unusual accompaniments of English belts, each containing two six-shooters. They seized rifles from the carriages, and with their arms full of cartridges made a rush for the boat.

At this the crew stood paralyzed, for they thought they were about to be attacked. One Malay drew a sheath knife and the others seized buckets, raised oars, and prepared to resist the men who were closing in upon them. This move was so unexpected that it was fortunate that an attack was averted, but a loud order from the captain in various languages at his command quieted the men. It was subsequently learned that the theory of the crew was that Captain Anthony had been smuggling and that the arrivals were government officials. The crew had determined to fight if necessary, to prevent the arrest of the captain.

At length the boat was afloat. The prisoners had been ordered to stow themselves as closely as possible in the bottom of the boat. Breslin, King, and Desmond sat in the stern and Captain Anthony took a position on top of the stern sheet, with the steering oar.

After some splashing the men began to pull with enthusiasm to the accompaniment of a running stream of rallying cries from the captain of "Pull as if you were pulling for a whale," "Come down, Mopsy," "Pull, Tobey, pull," "Come down, you big Lewis," "Pull, Tobey, pull," "Give them the stroke, Mr. Sylvia," "What do you say, men," "Come down altogether," "Pull away, my men, pull away."

Now the wind was beginning to breeze up from the west, blowing straight on shore. On the beach stood the timber-worker from the jetty, dumfounded at the spectacle, with the six horses, wandering about the shore. The boat was no more than a half mile from the beach when a squad of eight mounted policemen drove up. The flight had been discovered.

With the police were a number of "trackers," aboriginal bushmen who play the rôle of human blood-hounds. They wore short bokas, or cloaks of kangaroo skin, with belts of twisted fur around their naked bodies. These natives are attached to the prisons to follow the trail of absconding convicts, and they are wonderfully adept in running down a prisoner.

The police were armed with carbines and might have shot some of the men in the boat, but fortunately they did not fire. They watched the boat a while and then took the horses and led them toward the timber station.