One evening a few days after the storm, as we were placidly paddling away, I saw Yamba's face suddenly brighten with a look Ihad never seen on it before, and I felt sure this presaged some extraordinary announcement.She would gaze up into the heavens with a quick, sudden motion, and then her intelligent eyes would sparkle like the stars above.I questioned her, but she maintained an unusual reserve, and, as I concluded that she knew instinctively we were approaching Port Darwin, I, too, felt full of joy and pleasure that the object of our great journey was at length about to be achieved.Alas! what awaited me was only the greatest of all the astounding series of disappointments--one indeed so stunning as to plunge me into the very blackest depths of despair.
Yamba still continued to gaze up at the stars, and when at length she had apparently satisfied herself upon a certain point, she turned to me with a shout of excited laughter and delight, pointing frantically at a certain glowing star.Seeing that I was still puzzled by her merriment, she cried, "That star is one you remember well." I reflected for a moment, and then the whole thing came to me like a flash of lightning.YAMBA WAS APPROACHING HER OWN HOMEONCE MORE--THE VERY POINT FROM WHICH WE HAD BOTH STARTED EIGHTEENMONTHS PREVIOUSLY! In the storm, as I have already said, we had passed Port Darwin altogether, having been driven out to sea.
I tell you, my heart nearly burst when I recalled the awful privations and hardships we had both experienced so recently; and when I realised that all these things had been absolutely in vain, and that once more my trembling hopes were to be dashed to the ground in the most appalling manner, I fell back into the canoe, utterly crushed with horror and impotent disappointment.Was there ever so terrible an experience? Take a map of Australia, and see for yourself my frightful blunder--mistaking the west coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria for the eastern waters of the Cape York Peninsula, and then blindly groping northward and westward in search of the settlement of Somerset, which in reality lay hundreds of miles north-east of me.I was unaware of the very existence of the great Gulf of Carpentaria.But were it not for having had to steer north to get out of the waterless plains, I might possibly have reached the north-eastern coast of the continent in due time, avoiding the Roper River altogether.
Yamba knelt by my side and tried to comfort me in her own sweet, quaint way, and she pictured to me--scant consolation--how glad her people would be to have us both back amongst them once more.She also urged what a great man I might be among her people if only Iwould stay and make my home with them.Even her voice, however, fell dully on my ears, for I was fairly mad with rage and despair--with myself, for not having gone overland to Port Darwin from Port Essington, as, indeed, I should most certainly have done were it not that Davis had assured me the greater part of the journey lay through deadly swamps and creeks, and great waters swarming with alligators.I had even had in my mind the idea of attempting to REACH SYDNEY OVERLAND! but thought I would first of all see what facilities in the way of reaching civilisation Port Darwin had to offer.Now, however, I was back again in Cambridge Gulf,--in the very spot I had left a year and a half ago, and where I had landed with my four blacks from the island sand-spit.But you, my readers, shall judge of my feelings.
We landed on an island at the mouth of the gulf, and Yamba made smoke-signals to her friends on the mainland, telling them of our return.We resolved it would never do to confess we had been DRIVEN BACK.No, we had roamed about and had come back to our dear friends of our own free-will, feeling there was no place like home!
just think what a role this was for me to play,--with my whole being thrilling with an agony of helpless rage and bitter disappointment.
This time, however, we did not wait for the blacks to come out and meet us, but paddled straight for the beach, where the chiefs and all the tribe were assembled in readiness to receive us.The first poignant anguish being passed, and the warmth of welcome being so cordial and excessive (they cried with joy), I began to feel a little easier in my mind and more resigned to inexorable fate.The usual ceremony of nose-rubbing on shoulders was gone through, and almost every native present expressed his or her individual delight at seeing us again.Then they besieged us with questions, for we were now great travellers.A spacious "humpy" or hut was built without delay, and the blacks vied with one another in bringing me things which I sorely needed, such as fish, turtles, roots, and eggs.
That evening a corroboree on a gigantic scale was held in my honour; and on every side the blacks manifested great rejoicing at my return, which, of course, they never dreamed was involuntary.
Human nature is, as I found, the same the world over, and one reason for my warm welcome was, that my blacks had just been severely thrashed by a neighbouring tribe, and were convinced that if I would help them to retaliate, they could not fail to inflict tremendous punishment upon their enemies.By this time, having become, as I said before, somewhat resigned to my fate, I consented to lead them in their next battle, on condition that two shield-bearers were provided to protect me from the enemy's spears.This being the first time I had ever undertaken war operations with my friends, I determined that the experiment should run no risk of failure, and that my dignity should in no way suffer.I declared, first of all, that I would choose as my shield-bearers the two most expert men in the tribe.There was much competition for these honoured posts, and many warriors demonstrated their skill before me.
