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Chapter VII--Birds of Prey

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IT would take too long to tell of their escapes, which, after all, are common enough with bushmen who have attacked the base of that north Australian peninsula, though they were sufficiently alarming, even to a Bush girl accustomed to out-country life. There are women, however, to whom adventure is as the breath of life, and little Anne Marley, for all her feminine sentiment and romantic notions, was one of such. Often, in after life, she looked back upon the Bush journey with Kombo as one of the happiest times she had known; and, perhaps, compared with later adventures, it seemed tame and safe. By-and-by, they came upon beautiful pastoral country, the land which had enticed Duncan, the pioneer, from civilisation--rolling downs, slightly wooded, swelling below the basalt mountains and volcanic country westward. There, the peaks, strange--shaped and rock-ribbed, rose some three thousand feet out of dark-green jungle, barring part of the horizon. A little further, the mountains became higher, and multiplied in forms still more fantastic, where, in the far distance, the range turned inward towards a country wholly unexplored, and completely guarded against the inroads of squatters by impassable gullies and impenetrable scrub.

Anne had heard of the wonders and terrors of those mountain scrubs from explorers who had climbed part of the eastern side of the range, but had never penetrated its fastnesses, or gone into the mysterious region beyond. The Blacks had legends of some great and awful Debil-debil, more fearsome than any ordinary Debil-debil of the south, which inhabitated these tracts of the interior. Anne knew of the great sandy waste in the centre of Australia which had once been sea; where the rivers lost themselves in the sand, and whence scarcely any traveller returned. But between that sandy desert and the river-shed at the base of Cape York Peninsula, rumour spoke of a tract of country, closed in by scrub, where volcanoes had once raged, and where, according to the Blacks, were small lakes, supposed by them to be fathomless. The Maianbar and Moongarr tribes dwelt near its borders, and it was through stray Blacks who had found their way south, or had been brought by the native police from the outskirts of their own more inaccessible haunts, that these reports came. Otherwise, the region was unexplored. If the ill-fated Burke or Kennedy ever reached it, they did not return to tell the tale. There were all kinds of traditions about this unknown country. Anne had heard one prevalent among the Moongarrs, of a leviathan turtle that had lived in a lake which dried up, leaving the turtle without water. The story went that the turtle had turned into stone, and was now a mountain possessed of magic properties. Then there was another legend of a gigantic crocodile, dwelling upon the top of a high hill, out of whose mouth came fire and smoke; a monster which would still spit flame and ashes, and overwhelm any intrusive stranger venturing into its dominions. It was Kombo who had told Anne the story; he had learned it among the Moongarrs. Kombo believed devoutly in the crocodile "Debil-debil Yamin," and the turtle also--Mirrein, he called it. When Anne laughed, he was very much offended, giving her to understand that this was too serious a subject for profane jest. "Ba'al mine gammon," said he; "plenty black fellow afraid of that fellow Debil-debil Yamin."

Anne asked him if he had ever seen that Yamin. Kombo shook his head. "Ba'al brother belonging to me go long-a Deep Tank, close-up Crocodile Mountain," said he. "Maianbar black, sit down there. Long-ago Maianbar black, brother belonging to Moongarr, talk altogether same. Then many moon back, two fellow tribe fight--oh! plenty fight"--and Kombo's eyes and gestures expressed oceans of gore--"Maianbar blacks been eat Moongarrs. Afterwards, not friends any more. Maianbars one side of mountains: Moongarrs stop this side. But I believe two fellow tribe brother again by-'m-by," added Kombo cheerfully, for his own part quite ready to ignore the blood-feud.

Anne gazed out to a portentous-looking bank of clouds on the north-west horizon, and fancied that they were mountains, and that two of them were shaped like the turtle and the crocodile of Kombo's story. She wondered what was the real foundation of the legend, though it was not difficult to guess that it originated in a volcanic eruption. She knew that extinct craters had been found by many explorers, and she remembered, too, the explorer Hann's account of his find of fossil remains in North Australia, the wonderful antediluvian animals scientists had discovered to have existed in this oldest continent of the world--the gigantic iguana, the Australian diprotodons, the monstrous kangaroos, the enormous horned turtle.

Nearing the lower hills which bounded the great downs they had been traversing, Kombo told Anne that now they were "close-up Kooloola," and that if she wanted to put on her "White Mary's" dress they would camp by a lagoon that he knew, not far from the home paddock, where she could undo her swag, and make herself "altogether like-it half-caste woman."

"Ole Missus Duncan think plenty sun make-'im face black belonging to you," remarked Kombo; and consolingly added, "Mine been tell Missa Anne that all right. That come altogether white by-'m-by."

The lagoon lay between two low, full-bosomed hills, a peaceful tarn, on the surface of which floated the beautiful blue and white water-lily of Australia, and a few blossoms of a lovely pink colour, a rarer kind. Anne wanted Kombo to have a swim, and gather some of these for the old Missus while she changed her dress, but Kombo shook his head.

"Mine think-it bunyip sit down there," said he in a more portentous tone than that in which he had warned her against the alligators. "That water--hole go down long way in the ground. Mine think-it water come out other side," he went on. "Ole Massa Duncan, he try once to measure with plenty thread, but that no good. I believe bunyip catch hold of thread. Ole Massa no find-'im bottom."

Thousands of black duck, teal, and other water-fowl, with their young broods, floated on the lagoon, and now, alarmed by the voices of strangers, uttered strange cries, and rose, a mass of fluttering wings hovering over the water. At one end of the lagoon was a thick belt of casuarina and flooded gums, the white scaly stems of these last, uplifted like an army of ghosts. Anne retired with her swag into the shadow of these trees, while Kombo lighted a fire in a hollow log and set the billy to boil. Close to the bank, he warily waded to pluck some roots of water-lilies, which he laid among the ashes, and roasted like yams.

Presently Anne re-appeared--a trim little figure in her grey riding-habit, with the soft cap upon her short hair, and a veil, which she had brought away in her pack, tied round it, hiding the brownness of her face. Kombo gave a "Tschk! Tschk!" the black's expressive note of admiration, as she came up, tripping a little over her now unaccustomed skirt.

"Bujeri, Missa Anne!" said he; "Ba'al ole Missus see that fellow no look like-it White Mary."

But Anne wondered whether her aunt would recognise her. She had not met Mrs Duncan since she was a child.

The girl and the black boy were hungry, and feasted with a light heart. They ate the yellow powdery roots of the water-lilies, which were very palatable, and a change from their ordinary diet of game and damper. The quart-pot tea was drunk, and then they remounted. Anne had some difficulty in sitting side-ways on a man's saddle, but Kombo and she between them strapped a little hump, cut from a gum-branch, above the saddle-flap, and thus contrived a sort of pommel. About three miles further, they came upon a cattle-camp, which showed that they must be near the station. Before long, the paddock fence appeared, and they halted to put down the sliprails. Some way off, they could see the homestead perched on the side of a hill, just above a long narrow lagoon. Banking the head-station, the hill behind sloped gradually towards a thick scrub which spread upwards over the summits of a broken range, and downwards, in a kind of semi-circle, round the upper end of the lagoon.

Anne, with her Bush knowledge re-sharpened, wondered why her uncle Duncan had chosen so dangerous a site for his homestead, in a country infested with Blacks, to whom the scrub would furnish a very effectual cover for attack. She supposed he must have had some good reason connected with the working of the station; for she knew that, though called fool-hardy, there was never a more thorough bushman than her uncle Duncan. She knew also that he had held theories concerning the treatment of the Blacks, opposed to those of most bushmen. He had always paid them liberally for work they did for him, and, appealing to what he considered their better nature, had constituted himself their protector. The thought flashed through Anne's mind just then--for she was a hard-headed little creature, and, in spite of her friendliness to the natives, knew they were like children whom it wasn't wise to spoil--that it wasn't over safe to be a pro-Black in an unsettled district.

A track, broad enough for the water-cart that supplied itself at the lagoon, wound round the gentler ascent of the hill, past the stockyard, with its heavy railed fence and massive corner-posts, to the back of the cluster of bark-roofed buildings constituting the head-station. They could just see these, partly hidden by a knoll that abutted from the plateau on which the homestead was placed.

Kombo put up the sliprails, but just as he was about to re-mount his horse, something attracted his attention, and he walked on a little way, carefully looking at the grass and saplings which bordered the track. Then he stood still for a minute or two, gazing keenly from the homestead in the direction of the scrub behind it.

Anne called to him to take his horse which she was holding. He turned sharply.

"Kolle mal! Kolle mal!" he muttered, giving the aboriginal words of warning, and went on a short distance continuing his observations. Presently he came back to the girl.

"Missa Anne," he said, "you see, smoke long-a scrub? You see, ba'al no smoke long-a white man's chimbley! What for no fire? What for no smoke? Missa Anne, mine think it wild black sit down long-a scrub. Mine no want-im Missa Anne go first time long-a humpey. I b'lieve Kombo mel--mel--Kombo, look out--Missa Anne stop here--then suppose all right, I come back and tell Missa Anne."

Anne quailed at the scent of disaster, for the black boy looked strangely troubled.

"What do you mean, Kombo? Don't you think old Missus Duncan sit down long-a humpey?"

"Mine no think-it, Missa Anne. Suppose ole Missus long-a humpey, that fellow make-it fire-smoke. I very much afraid of wild black. You no been see long-a cattle camp, one bullock have spear hanging down long-a leg? I b'lieve wild black camp close-up, and this morning he been spear bullock. I no believe ole Missus long-a humpey. I b'lieve that fellow plenty frightened and run away."

"No, no, Kombo. Ole Missus never frightened of Blacks."

"I believe so, Missa Anne. One fellow, black-policeman long-a Captain Cunningham, been tell me Maianbar black come down and make corroboree closeup Kooloola, Maianbar black want-im flour, sugar, ration... Ba'al mine think-it, that fellow look out talgoro (human flesh)." Kombo appeared doubtfully sanguine. "He no like old white. Maianbar black like best young black fellow."

Anne turned very pale, and reeled slightly in her saddle. A more horrible possibility dawned upon her than that ole Missus should have run away.

"Oh! Kombo--don't!" she faltered.

"No fear, Missa Anne. He very bad black, Maianbar black;" and Kombo made a devout grimace. "Ole Missus know all about that, and make altogether white man yan (run away). You see--what for no firesmoke? Mine think-it Missa Anne better stop down long-a hut close-up water-hole. I go look out." Kombo pointed to a bark hut on the bank of the lagoon at the end furthest from them. A fringe of trees and swamp oak spread past the gum-trees, along the side of the lagoon inside the fence they had just passed through, and Kombo's quick intelligence had already grasped the advantage of placing themselves under cover. He suggested that they should get off and lead their horses round along the edge of the water-hole, under shelter of the trees, and then see if the hut was empty, or tenanted by the stockman. He might well be there, for it was near sundown, and work should be over on the run. If he was at home, they might assure themselves that all was well at the station. If the place was deserted, Anne might wait in it, with the horses tethered near, while he, Kombo, crept up the side of the hill near the scrub, and reconnoitred at the back of the house. Anne did not quite care for the plan, and would have preferred to ride straight up to the homestead, but Kombo impressed her by the earnestness of his manner, and she had confidence in the boy's instinct. Besides, a feeling of great uneasiness and desolation, such as she had not yet known during their wanderings in the Bush, had crept over her in the last minute or two. Though she had reached her goal, she could not help, after Kombo's suggestion of the Maianbars' weakness for talgoro, feeling terribly anxious.

Just then, a flight of hawks wheeled down from the homestead hill, close over her head, fierce, red-eyed birds of prey, whose very presence filled her with an unreasoning sense of ill-omen. She resisted Kombo no longer, but got off her horse, and, leading it by the bridle, followed the black boy among the belt of trees to the stockman's dwelling. The door of the hut stood open. Inside, the blue blankets lay in disorder on the bunk, as though a sleeper had hastily arisen. Outside, the fire under the bark lean-to had been laid, but had not been kindled. Two or three fresh bits of wood lay upon the half-burned foundation logs, and there seemed something oddly forlorn in the heap of last night's ashes beneath them, and in the empty black pot tilted on the ground close by. Outside the door, on a bit of stump, the stockman's coolaman--the bushman's wooden washing basin--was set, with the hard square of yellow soap within it. Though in the shade, it was quite dry, and had evidently been unused that day. Nobody was in or near the hut, and Anne seated herself on the slab bench beside the rough table, while Kombo hung the horses to a tree, and then, skirting the upper end of the lagoon and the border of scrub beyond it, began to climb the hill so as to get a side view of the homestead.

Anne waited a long time in the hut--it seemed to her hours, though it was scarcely forty minutes. The setting sun shed a glow on the trees and the bare bit of ground outside, and upon the distant peaks of the range which she could see through the hut door. The mosquitoes, coming with the approaching twilight, had begun to swarm, and the hut was close and ill-smelling. Outside, every now and then, she saw a hawk circling low to the ground. One came after the other, and she wondered what carrion feast had caused the foul birds to congregate. No doubt, she thought, it was the speared carcase of a bullock which the Blacks had killed, and, unable to carry away, had left to rot. She had forced herself to dismiss any more appalling conjectures. Anything else seemed impossible.

The evening birds were beginning to call. She could hear the gurgling note of a swamp pheasant, and every now and then the raucous mirth of a laughing jackass pealed from a neighbouring tree. The Bush sounds which she so loved seemed now only to intensify the nervous strain, which was becoming unbearable. She wondered why she should suffer so, for the first time, now that she was within sight of her aunt's house, and almost under her aunt's protection. For, of course, her aunt was there. She had not felt so lonely and frightened in the shepherd's hut by that crocodile-infested water-hole. It struck her; were there any crocodiles in this lagoon? And then she began to feel thirsty, and searched the hut for water. There was none to be found, and she took a pannikin and went restlessly out towards the fringe of ti-trees which hid the little lake from her view. The sun had now sunk, and a red afterglow illuminated the plain, striking the slab fence of the paddock, and causing scales of ti-tree bark to shine like silver.

Anne walked a little way. All around her, were creepy sounds of animal life, but there was no sign of Kombo. Now she thought that she heard the thunder of hoofs--a rush of cattle, perhaps--on the plain. A hawk rose from among the trees ahead of her close by the bank of the lagoon; another flew up, and another. She pushed back the branches, moving uncertainly, for she was vaguely conscious of some wakening horror, She struck through an odorous thicket of river jasmine, lemon gum, and the fragrance of ti-tree blossoms, and now stopped dead short, and uttered a piercing scream.

At her very feet, the head towards her, the legs caught in a tangle of vine, lay the body of a man clad only in a shirt, with the top of the head battered in, the eyes staring, the mouth wide open, a swarm of flies upon the blue lips; while, as she stood, her shoes were almost wetted by a little stream of coagulating blood. Beneath her outstretched arms, a loathsome carrion bird spread its wings, and fluttered out over the lagoon. The girl gave another shriek, and fled back through the thicket. She understood now. God of mercy! That this thing should be! Had the Blacks massacred every white man and woman on Kooloola station?

Fugitive Anne, A Romance of the Unexplored Bush

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