One morning, shortly after we had begun our usual trip for the day, and were rounding a headland, I was almost stupefied to behold in front of me the masts of a boat (which I afterwards found to be a Malay proa), close in-shore.The situation, in reality, was between Croker's Island and the main, but at the time I thought that I had at length reached Somerset.I sprang to my feet in a state of the greatest excitement."Thank God! thank God!" Ishouted to Yamba; "we are saved at last!--saved--saved--saved!" As I shouted, I pulled the canoe round and made for the vessel with all possible despatch.We very soon came up with her, and found her almost stranded, in consequence of the lowness of the tide.Ipromptly clambered aboard, but failed to find a soul.I thought this rather strange, but as I could see a hut not very far away, close to the beach, I steered towards it.This little dwelling, too, was uninhabited, though I found a number of trays of fish lying about, which afterwards I found to be beche-de-mer being dried and smoked.Suddenly, while Yamba and I were investigating the interior of the hut, a number of Malays unexpectedly appeared on the scene, and I then realised I had had the good fortune to come across a Malay beche-de-mer expedition.
The fishermen were exceedingly surprised at seeing Yamba and me;but when they found I could speak their language a little they evinced every sign of delight, and forthwith entertained us most hospitably on board their craft, which was a boat of ten or fifteen tons.They told me they had come from the Dutch islands south of Timor, and promptly made me an offer that set my heart beating wildly.They said they were prepared to take me back to Kopang, if I wished; and I, on my part, offered to give them all the pearl shells left on my little island in the Sea of Timor--the latitude of which I took good care not to divulge--on condition that they called there.They even offered Yamba a passage along with me;but, to my amazement and bitter disappointment, she said she did not wish to go with them.She trembled as though with fear.She was afraid that when once we were on board, the Malays would kill me and keep her.
One other reason for this fear I knew, but it in no way mitigated my acute grief at being obliged to decline what would probably be my only chance of returning to civilisation.For this I had pined day and night for four or five years, and now that escape was within my grasp I was obliged to throw it away.For let me emphatically state, that even if civilisation had been but a mile away, I would not have gone a yard towards it without that devoted creature who had been my salvation, not on one occasion only, but practically every moment of my existence.
With passionate eagerness I tried to persuade Yamba to change her mind, but she remained firm in her decision; and so, almost choking with bitter regret, and in a state of utter collapse, I had to decline the offer of the Malays.We stayed with them, however, a few weeks longer, and at length they accompanied me to a camp of black fellows near some lagoons, a little way farther south of their own camp.Before they left, they presented me with a quantity of beche-de-mer, or sea-slugs, which make most excellent soup.At the place indicated by the Malays, which was in Raffles Bay, the chief spoke quite excellent English.One of his wives could even say the Lord's Prayer in English, though, of course, she did not know what she was talking about."Captain Jack Davis," as he called himself, had been for some little time on one of her Majesty's ships, and he told me that not many marches away there was an old European settlement; he even offered to guide me there, if I cared to go.He first led me to an old white settlement in Raffles Bay, called, I think, Fort Wellington, where I found some large fruit-trees, including ripe yellow mangoes.There were, besides, raspberries, strawberries, and Cape gooseberries.
Needless to remark, all this made me very happy and contented, for I felt I must now be getting near the home of some white men.Ithought that, after all, perhaps Yamba's refusal to go with the Malays was for the best, and with high hopes I set out with Captain Davis for another settlement he spoke of.This turned out to be Port Essington, which we reached in two or three days.Another cruel blow was dealt me here.
You can perhaps form some idea of my poignant dismay and disappointment on finding that this dreary-looking place of swamps and marshes was quite deserted, although there were still a number of ruined brick houses, gardens, and orchards there.The blacks told me that at one time it had been one of the most important penal settlements in Australia, but had to be abandoned on account of the prevalence of malarial fever arising from the swamps in the neighbourhood.I came across a number of graves, which were evidently those of the exiled settlers; and one of the wooden headstones bore the name of Captain Hill (I think that was the name).I have an idea that the fence round this old cemetery still remained.There was food in abundance at this place--raspberries, bananas, and mangoes grew in profusion; whilst the marshes were inhabited by vast flocks of geese, ducks, white ibis, and other wild-fowl.Indeed in the swamps the birds rose in such prodigious numbers as actually to obscure the face of the sun.Here for the first time I saw web-footed birds perched in trees.
The blacks had a very peculiar method of catching water-fowl.They would simply wade through the reeds into the water almost up to their necks, and then cover their heads with a handful of reeds.
Remaining perfectly still, they would imitate the cry of different wild-fowl.Then at a convenient opportunity, they would simply seize a goose or a duck by the leg, and drag it down under the water until it was drowned.The number of water-fowl caught in this way by a single black fellow was truly astonishing.
After having remained a fortnight at Port Essington itself, we returned to Raffles Bay, where Yamba and I made a camp among the blacks and took up our residence among them; for Captain Davis had told me that ships called there occasionally, and it was possible that one might call soon from Port Darwin.The vessels, he added, came for buffalo meat--of which more hereafter.I had decided to remain among these people some little time, because they knew so much about Europeans, and I felt sure of picking up knowledge which would prove useful to me.
