The Kangaroo Hunters; Or, Adventures in the Bush

"You are always rational, Margaret, and I am but a selfish visionary," answered Mr. Mayburn. "Even now my idle dreams have turned away my thoughts from my heavy and real calamity – the loss of my children."

"Depend on't we'se find t' lads all right, master," said Wilkins; "and they'll tell us what a good laugh they had when they heared that grand salute we gave 'em amang these rattling hills."

CHAPTER XXVI

The Search for the Lost. – The Fig-tree. – Signals. – The Wanderers found. – The Wounded Boy. – The Sufferings of the Thirsty. – The Rescue and Return. – The Kangaroo Conflict. – A strange Meeting. – The Bush-rangers. – The miraculous Escape

Sleep fled from all the sorrowful family, and they gladly saw the morning light which would enable them to set out to track the unlucky boys. The three men chose the high pinnacle from whence Arthur had fired the preceding evening for a rendezvous, and fixed a white cross of peeled rods against the dark foliage of a gum-tree, that stood tall and conspicuous on the summit, as a land-mark. From thence Arthur proceeded directly north amidst the intricacies of the mountains, while Jack went off at the right-hand, and Wilkins at the left. It was agreed that they should meet at the same spot in the evening, if the search was not successful before then. Arthur carried one of the guns; the other being left with Mr. Mayburn, that he might fire it as a signal, in case of alarm; while Arthur proposed, if he succeeded in discovering the fugitives, to recall the other two men by firing his gun.

Arthur's share of the work was certainly the most toilsome. At one moment he was climbing over some lofty rock; the next, he was searching for a pass amidst inaccessible heights; then winding through tortuous gorges, till his head became so bewildered that it was only when he observed the course of the sun, or caught sight of the happy signal of the white cross, that he was able to determine his position. Several times, from some elevation, he shouted loudly the names of the absent boys, but none answered. The day wore away, and he gladly rested for a short time beneath a fig-tree, still bearing a quantity of ripe fruit, while the ground was strewn with the decayed figs, on which flocks of bronze pigeons, yellow cockatoos, and rose-colored parrots, were busily feeding. These birds seemed to confide in Arthur's forbearance, for they continued to enjoy their feast without evincing any alarm, except by a vehement greeting, in their several notes, as if they inquired his business at their board.

The arched roots of the fig-tree afforded him an easy mode of access to the upper branches, where he filled his straw hat with the fruit, and then continued his walk, enjoying the refreshment; for the figs, though not luscious, were ripe and juicy.

"I will give one more shout," thought he; and his voice, cleared and strengthened by his refreshment, rang through the echoing mountains. He waited for five minutes; still there was no reply; but his eye caught a light smoke among the mountains. It might be the fires of the natives he thought; but even were it so, the boys might have fallen into their hands, and no time must be lost in rescuing them. He made ready his gun, and, still bearing his load of figs, he directed his course briskly towards the suspected spot. But it was most difficult to attain the place from whence the smoke seemed to proceed, and he wandered for an hour amidst intricate windings, making many unsuccessful attempts to penetrate to the spot, till at length he came to a small hollow, surrounded by dungeon-like walls, where a fire of dry wood was smouldering, but no one was near it.

"Hugh! Gerald!" he shouted; and at the sound of his voice his brother appeared, crawling feebly from a hole in the rocks.

"Hugh, my boy, are you hurt?" asked Arthur, in a hurried tone: "and where is Gerald?"

Hugh pointed to the hole from whence he had issued, and in a hoarse, weak voice, said, "Water! water!" Scarcely conscious what he did, Arthur pressed the juice of a fig into the parched mouth of the boy, who murmured, "Thank God! But, oh, Arty! can you get any water for poor Gerald?"

Putting more figs into his hand, Arthur stooped down to the low entrance, and passed into a small dark hollow, where Gerald was stretched out, almost insensible, and near him lay dead a huge kangaroo. Arthur gave the poor boy the only refreshment he had to offer, the juice of the figs; but he seemed in a much more feeble state than Hugh, and when his kind friend with difficulty got him out into the open air, he saw with consternation that his leg was bound up with a handkerchief, through which the blood was oozing.

"How did this happen, Hugh?" asked Arthur, before he ventured to examine the wound.

"It was the kangaroo," answered he; "and then, when we had killed it, we were far too ill to eat it, though we have had no food since we left home."

"I cannot tell what I must do," said Arthur. "It will be impossible to get you home to-night, feeble as you are; and papa will now be in alarm at my absence."

"But you will not leave us again, Arty," said Hugh, sobbing. "I fear dear Gerald will die. I dare not remain alone any longer."

"I must leave you for a short time," answered Arthur. "I think I shall be able to summon Wilkins and Jack to us; then they can search for water, and carry Gerald home."

Hugh burst into tears, and said, "But the bush-rangers – I cannot tell you all, Arthur, my head is so bad. There are bush-rangers; we have seen them; they will meet you, and they will come and kill us. At least, carry Gerald back to the cave."

In increased alarm, Arthur conveyed Gerald into the dismal cave, and leaving them all the remainder of the figs, he waited to hear no more, but hurried off with all speed towards the rendezvous, looking round as he went on, for some spring or pool from which he could procure water for the suffering boys. When he reached a high rock, not far from the rendezvous, he ventured to fire his gun, and was immediately answered by the shouts of the men, who, following the sound and flash of the gun, soon came up to him.

"Where are they? Oh, Mr. Arthur, have you not found them?" said Jack.

Arthur, in a few words, told the distressing story; and night being now at hand, it was agreed that Jack should return to appease the uneasiness of the family, while Wilkins should accompany Arthur back to the two anxious boys, with whom they would remain till daylight, and then bring them home. Wilkins undertook to procure water for them from a pool at a little distance, where Jack and he rested, and where they had cleaned out two large gourds they had found, and converted them into water-bottles.

These gourds were a great treasure; they carried them to the pool, filled them with fresh-water, and, after drinking themselves, hastened forward with all the vigor that remained to them after the day's fatigue, towards the spot where the boys were lying, but did not reach it till night had made it most difficult to discover it. The joy of the poor wanderers was excessive when they saw their friends arrive, bringing the refreshment they so much desired. Gerald was already somewhat revived by the figs; and after he and Hugh had drunk some water, they began to desire more substantial food; and it was not long before Wilkins had cut off, and broiled, some steaks of kangaroo venison, of which all the hungry party partook with great enjoyment. Still the boys were too much weakened and exhausted to enter into any details of their adventure that night; and when Arthur and Wilkins had collected heath for beds and covering – for the nights were now chill, – they all crept into the cave, and slept soundly till awakened by the rude, early greeting of the laughing jackass.

Then, after more kangaroo steaks, Arthur made an examination of Gerald's lacerated and bruised leg, which Hugh had previously bandaged to the best of his skill. They could now spare water to wash the wound, and the bandages were replaced by some made from Arthur's handkerchief; and Wilkins having cut down the spreading bough of a fig-tree, Gerald and the kangaroo were placed side by side upon it, and borne by Arthur and Wilkins. The procession moved slowly and silently, Hugh looking round anxiously as he preceded the litter, in dread of the terrible bush-rangers.

The rugged mountain-road tired the bearers greatly, but long before they reached the rendezvous, they saw a figure standing before the dark gum-tree, and a loud "Halloo!" brought Jack to meet and assist them. He had considerately brought with him a bucket of water; and they rested and refreshed themselves, before they completed their toilsome journey. But fatigue was forgotten when they all met again in the quiet valley; Mr. Mayburn and Margaret wept for joy, and though nurse did not fail to chide them as "bad boys," she fondled and nursed the wanderers, and produced for their comfort cockatoo-stew, flavored with wild herbs that resembled parsley and marjoram, and mixed with the beans they had got on the banks of the river.

"Keep a sentinel at the pass, Arthur," said Hugh. "We shall be watched and tracked; there will be scouts all around us. It is a miracle that we have arrived here safely."

"Oh! Master Hugh, honey, is it that good-to-nought Black Peter?" asked Jenny.

"Worse than that, I am sorry to say, nurse," answered he; "for there are dozens of Black Peters ready to snap us up. But don't look so sorrowful, Meggie, and I'll just tell you how it all happened. That big old fellow," pointing to the kangaroo, "kept us trotting after him for hours and hours, and always when we got him within reach of a spear or an arrow, he bounded off like a race-horse, and you could not say whether he hopped, or galloped, or flew. It was a beautiful sight, but very vexatious. At last we got desperate; we were tired and hungry, and we determined to have him; so we parted, that we might attack him on both sides, and force him to stand at bay. It was a capital plan, and turned out very well. We chased him into that queer little dungeon-like hollow where you found us. He flew round and round, but we guarded the entrance, and he could not escape, and at last we drove him into a corner, pierced mortally with our spears. I wanted Gerald to wait till the beast was weakened with loss of blood; but he was in a hurry to finish, so he rushed on with his drawn knife, and I followed to help him. But when the brave old fellow found he had not a chance, he faced round, and with his fore-feet – his arms, I should say – he seized me, and gave me a heavy fall. Gerald was then behind, and plunged his knife into him, on which the desperate creature struck out with his powerful hind claw, and tore and bruised poor Gerald, as you see.

"I was soon on my feet again, and then I speedily despatched the beast; but I should never like to kill another in that way; it was just like murdering one's grandfather. Then I turned to poor Gerald. Oh, Margaret! if you had seen how he bled! and how frightened I was till I got his wounds tied up! He was very thirsty, and begged me to get him some water, or he thought he must die. So off I set, keeping a sharp eye on our den, that I might find it again. I mounted a crag, and looked about me till I saw flocks of birds, all hovering over one place, a good stretch from me. 'That's my aim,' thought I, and on I dashed, over rocks and valleys, straight forward, till I saw before me a grand silver-looking lake, covered with ducks and swans; while regiments of birds, like cranes and pelicans, with other unknown species, were drawn up round it.

"I could look at nothing else but the birds for some time, I was so charmed, and I planned directly to bring papa to the place the very next day; but remembering poor Gerald's condition, I went forward, and looking round to scan the grassy plains between the mountains and the lake, I was astonished to see a number of large animals grazing, which were certainly not kangaroos, but real, downright quadrupeds, walking on their four legs. 'Here's a grand new field of natural history,' thought I. 'Yes, we must certainly take up our quarters here.' But, halloo! what did I see that moment, hobbling ungracefully up to me, but our old friend Charlie Grey!"

"Charlie Grey! Edward Deverell's favorite horse!" exclaimed Margaret. "You have been dreaming, Hugh; it could not be!"

"It could be, Meggie, for it really was he," answered Hugh. "Do you remember how we used to feed the handsome fellow with bits of bread on the voyage? It came into my mind just then, and I plucked a handful of oats, and held them out, calling 'Charlie! Charlie!' Poor, dear old fellow! he could not trot up to me as his heart wished, but he limped forward as well as his hobbles would allow him."

"Hobbles!" exclaimed Wilkins; "then he'd been nabbed by them bush-rangers."

"Sure enough he had, Wilkins," continued Hugh; "and there were five or six strong black draught-horses, besides a herd of bullocks and cows; every beast, I'll venture to say, stolen from our friend Edward Deverell. Well, I had forgot all about poor Gerald and the water, and was feeding and stroking Charlie, when I saw he had a halter on his neck; and I thought I might as well just cut the hobbles, mount him, ride off to take Gerald behind me, and away we would gallop home. But the water! – I had forgotten that we had no vessel to contain water; but, fortunately, at the edge of the lake, near a place where a fire had been kindled, I saw piles of large mussel-shells. I filled two, placed them in my hat, and slung it round my neck. Then I pulled out my knife, and stooped down to cut Charlie's bonds; but just then such yells fell on my ears that I started up, and saw on one of the heights a line of fierce looking men, attired in the conspicuous yellow dress of the convicts. Their guns were directed towards me, and there was no longer time to release and mount Charlie; in fact, I had not presence of mind to decide on doing it, but ran off as fast as my legs would carry me, just in time to escape a volley of shots from the wretches. Thankful that I had escaped unhit, I fled desperately, never looking behind me till I reached poor Gerald, whom I found very ill and restless, parched with thirst; and there was scarcely a teaspoonful of water left in the shells, from my rapid flight. I was telling him my story, when we heard a tremendous report of fire-arms, and we trembled to think the villains were pursuing me; but now I conclude it must have been your signal-shot, an idea which never occurred to me in my distracted state. I then got Gerald into that little hole, and dragged the great kangaroo after him, that nothing suspicious might be in sight if they followed me; though I hardly dared to hope that our den should escape their observation. Dear Gerald groaned and tossed about all night. How much I did grieve that I had not succeeded in bringing him the water! Nor was our condition improved next morning, for I was afraid to venture out beyond the hollow, round which I sought in vain for any fruit or juicy herb to cool our parched mouths. Gerald, in all his agony, was twice as brave as I was; and if he had been the sound one, I know he would have risked any danger to obtain help for me."

"Botheration! Hugh, my boy," said Gerald, "didn't I know all the time that it was my moans and groans that made you turn soft and sob like a girl? I couldn't help grunting out like a pig shut out of a cabin on a rainy night; and then you grunted and cried too, for company. We were a pair of pleasant, jolly fellows all day, Meggie, as you may easily suppose. Day, indeed, do I say! why, we thought it must be a week, at least! As night came on, it grew very cold, and Hugh scrambled out to gather a few sticks together to make a fire before our cave. Before he came back, I heard the crack! crack! of a gun running from rock to rock; and when I saw Hugh, I tried to speak to him; and then I know no more till I felt the cold fig-juice on my dry tongue. Won't I like figs as long as I live; and won't I have an alley of fig-trees in my garden when I locate – squat, I mean, and build a mansion, and marry."

"Mrs. O'Brien may possibly object to the Ficus in her garden, Gerald," said Arthur; – "it is not a comely tree in its proportions; but the question may safely rest awhile. Now, Hugh, after you heard the gun?"

"Then I threw more wood upon the fire," answered he, "that the smoke might be seen, and crept back into the cave; for I could not get over the fear that the shot might have come from the bush-rangers; and I had thus given them a signal to our hiding-place. Think of my joy when I heard the voices which I never expected to hear again!"

Jenny had wept abundantly at the tale of suffering, and she now endeavored to show her sympathy by placing before the fatigued and hungry boys another collation, consisting of bean-coffee sweetened with honey, and sweet oat-cakes; and certainly, if Mr. Mayburn had not interfered with grave sanitary admonitions, the boys were in danger of eating themselves into a fever.

"I have thought much on this unfortunate adventure," said Mr. Mayburn, when they met together the next morning. "It is a fearful reflection to know that we are in the midst of a horde of banditti, ready to intercept our least movement. What shall we do? We appear to be in safety here; but this lovely spot would become a prison to you all, if you were forbidden to move from it. Arthur, what do you say? Wilkins, my good man, do you think we are quite safe?"

"Not ower and above, I say, master," answered Wilkins; "they're just ranging hereabouts, to pick up recruits among them fools of black fellows, and to keep out of t' way of them as they've pillaged; and they're ripe for any thieving or ill-doing as falls in their way. But they'll not sattle long; they'll range off down south to turn their beasts into brandy, and we'se be better at their heels nor afore 'em."

"I think, papa, Wilkins is right," said Arthur. "We may rest a good time here without any sacrifice of comfort. We have grain and water at hand; pigeons and cockatoos in our own preserve, asking us to roast them; an excellent store of honey, coffee, and tea, as we are pleased to name the Australian representatives of these luxuries; spacious and dry lodgings, and fresh air. Certainly, with occasional forays, conducted with due prudence, we shall have abundant and excellent provision for any length of time. This monstrous kangaroo ought to supply us with meat for many days; and I think we might dry part of it in the sun, to resemble the South-American charqui."

"It is an admirable idea, Arthur," said Mr. Mayburn; "we shall thus avoid the sin of wasting the good gifts of Providence. I have read a description of the process; I know the meat must be cut in slices, and I should like to assist you in carrying out the plan, though, practically, I am inexperienced. The first difficulty appears to be, how to avoid the destruction of the skin in slicing it."

"Why, papa, we skinned him this morning," replied Hugh. "The skin is already cleaned and spread to dry; we shall rub it with a little fat, to render it pliable, and then we shall have a blanket or a cloak of inestimable value."

"True, my son; I had forgotten that preliminary operation," said Mr. Mayburn. "But still I cannot understand how we shall obtain the large slices; – the bones, the form of the animal, present great obstacles."

"Leave it to the experienced, papa," said Margaret. "Wilkins knows how to slice up a kangaroo."

It was capital employment and amusement for the active to cut up the huge animal into thin slices, which were spread out on the bush, and the ardent sun of the climate, even at this late season, soon dried the meat perfectly; and Margaret wove grass bags to pack it in; and thus several days passed without alarm or annoyance; and with due care and attention the wound of Gerald was perfectly healed.