Publicly accessible
URL: http://www.nzetc.org/collections.html
copyright 2007, by Victoria University of Wellington
Prepared for the
All unambiguous end-of-line hyphens have been removed, and the trailing part of a word has been joined to the preceding line. Every effort has been made to preserve the Māori macron using unicode.
Some keywords in the header are a local Electronic Text Centre scheme to aid in establishing analytical groupings.
It is now a good many years since the events recorded in the following pages occurred. The narrative was given as a true description of the adventures and sufferings of a small party of whalers who were cast ashore on the south-west coast of the South Island of New Zealand. The circumstances of their wreck, and the particulars of nearly three years' residence—part of the time on the shores of one of the deep inlets or sounds which in many instances run for miles into the heart of the mountains; and the remaining period at different places along the same coast—were written almost word for word as described some years ago by one of the few survivors of the shipwrecked party. Up to the time this was written (a month or two previous to his death), it had never occurred to him to commit his adventures to writing; but then, finding himself rapidly failing through old age, he asked the writer of this to do it for him. A slight allowance may be necessary as regards dates contained herein; but as a whole I think—notwithstanding certain unkind suggestions that my old friend was imposing upon the credulity of a “new chum”—that the tale is a true one. With this short preface I will leave old Dick Young to spin his own yarn, and in his name I crave the kind indulgence of the reader.
I was born at sea, about the beginning of the present century. The vessel which was my birthplace, and for some years afterwards my home, was a collier, trading between Newcastle and London, my father being part owner and captain. When I had reached the age of thirteen, my father determined to give up his sea-faring life, and settle on shore. He purchased a small cottage near a village on the south coast of England, where he could, as he said, “smell the sea, at any rate.” My inclinations, however, would not let me remain inactive on shore; and my father, seeing I was determined to make the sea my home, procured me a berth as cabin-boy on board a vessel trading to Buenos Ayres.
During the next twenty years of my life, I frequently changed about from one ship to another, and visited almost every land under the sun. About the end of that time I entered as second mate on board of the Albatross, whaler, bound for the South Seas. At the time I shipped, she was lying in dock, in Liverpool, to which port she belonged. It was on board this vessel I first met Harry Murton, who was my companion for years afterwards, and was one of the survivors of the wreck on the West Coast of New Zealand. He and I became thick chums, and stuck to one another when we left the Albatross. Though only an A.B. before the mast on the whaler, he got on board the German Prince, running between London and Melbourne, as third mate; I having joined the same ship as second officer.
About this period the Australian diggings had attracted so much notice — people of all nations were flocking by thousands daily into the El Dorado of the South. Harry and I, soon after our arrival in Melbourne, caught the gold fever, and determined to try our luck at the diggings. With two other shipmates, we started inland, and duly arrived at our destination. It is needless to enter into particulars of our life there. One day making a “pile;” then for weeks we would never find even the “color.”
After over two years' knocking about on the different diggings, we found ourselves worth about three thousand pounds each, and Harry and I determined to return to Melbourne, and ship by some vessel to England. On arrival at Melbourne, however, no vessel happened to be leaving for a fortnight or three weeks, and so Harry proposed we should take a run over to New Zealand. We found a brig just about sailing for Lyttelton, on board of which we took passage. After a quick voyage we sighted Port Cooper, and in due time landed at Lyttelton—which in
Corsair—the brig which had brought us over from Melbourne—informed us that he was going to sail for Port Chalmers the same evening, so we decided to continue on there with him. On arriving at Port Chalmers we left the brig, and proceeded up to Dunedin in a whale-boat. After putting up at an apology for an hotel, we strolled out up the hill behind the town, to have a look about us.
On our return to the “public,” who should we come across but Captain Marsh, of the Albatross. His vessel had been wrecked somewhere on the south coast of the island, but the crew managed to get ashore safely, and were now all in Dunedin. Captain Marsh had chartered a large three-masted schooner, and, with some of his old hands, was just about starting on a whaling and sealing voyage to the south of New Zealand. He immediately proposed our going with him, as he was in want of two officers—those of the Albatross having gone over to the Australian diggings. After some further conversation we agreed to join him; and two days afterwards we were once more at sea.
The Mercury, for such was the name of our schooner, was a tight little craft, of about 200 tons. The crew consisted of Captain Marsh, and myself and Harry Murton as first and second mates respectively; Jack Hunter, Peter Smith, Michael Murray, John Parsons, James M'Pherson, Tom Hardcastle, a Spaniard called “Spanish Joe,” Pat Moloney, and a lad named Smart; and lastly, the cook, who went by the nickname of “Swabs”—making thirteen souls, all told.
We had got well clear of the south end of New Zealand when a gale sprang up from the south-east. The vessel was made as snug as possible, and lay to for one night. Next morning the gale increased so much that the captain expressed fears of being driven back on the coast of New Zealand; he therefore determined to run well to the westward, so as to be well clear of any danger of that kind. After doing this for twelve hours, we again hove the vessel to. For four days and nights had the gale continued at its height, when on the morning of the fifth day, as we were sitting down to breakfast, Harry Murton, who had charge of
“Impossible,” said the captain, as he sprang up from table and hurried on deck, followed by me.
“Where is the land, Murton?” he sang out, as soon as he reached the deck.
Harry handed him the telescope, at the same time pointing to what at first appeared to be a bank of clouds, but through the glass, a high range of mountains might be seen, trending away east and west, according to the compass.
“Run down and bring up my chart,” shouted Captain Marsh, to the lad Smart, who was standing at the top of the companion. In a few seconds, the boy returned, bringing the chart.
“Very strange!” said the captain. “There's no land marked anywhere about here; and we cannot have drifted on to the south coast by any chance whatever.”
While the captain had been examining the chart, I had pulled out a small pocket-compass from inside my pilot-coat and for some moments after looking at it I was too astounded to speak. Suddenly recollecting myself, I rushed aft to the binnacle, and then the whole truth flashed upon me. While the ship's compass made the land as lying east and west, mine pointed it out as running almost north and south!—Which was wrong? I immediately shouted out to the captain my discovery, and he hurried up to me.
“Smart, go down for my compass, above the cabin table,—quick, for God's sake!” he said.
Smart was down and back again like a monkey.
The captain's and my compasses agreed. The ship's Had Gone Wrong.
For some moments none of us spoke. Then, with a muttered oath, Captain Marsh sang out—
“All hands for'ard there!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” responded” the men.
“Stand by to wear ship.”
In a minute every man was at his station.
“Now, lads, round with the yards. Let go the fore-topsail—be sharp.”
The schooner gradually came up to the wind, which was all this time blowing a hurricane.
Hardly, however, had she got way on her, when, with a crash, the mizenmast went by the board. The vessel having no aftersail to keep her head up, fell away again, and began to drift rapidly in the direction of the land.
The captain did not for a moment lose his presence of mind, but ordered the men at once to get up a jury mast; and in the meantime all sail was taken in, with the exception of the smallest possible amount of canvass to steady her. By the time the jury mast was rigged we were within a few miles of the shore, which rose in precipitous ranges from the water's edge to a great height. Deep, dark ravines could be seen running into the mountains, while the sides were covered with thick forests.
“We are on the south-west coast of New Zealand,” said the captain. “But how that compass could have gone wrong, and without our noticing it, is a mystery to me.”
“It must have gone wrong immediately after we lost sight of land after leaving Dunedin,” said I; “and the gale, instead of coming from the south-east, came from the south-west. When we were, as we thought, steering west, we were steering nearly north. It is a wonder we did not get ashore on the southern part of the Island.”
“There's not the slightest doubt about that, Young,” said the captain. “And God help us if this mast doesn't stand.”
By this time sail had again been got on the mizen-mast, and the vessel's head brought round to the wind. We now seemed to be making good headway, and slowly, but surely, drawing away from the land. The wind had veered almost due west.
About four o'clock in the afternoon, we judged that the vessel was fully eight or nine miles off shore, and as the new mast showed every sign of standing, we began to feel more at ease. The captain had substituted his compass for the one in the binnacle,—but we could find nothing wrong with the latter, and were quite at a loss to know how it had gone so much astray.
I think it must have been close on midnight. It was my watch on deck, and I was pacing up and down the small poop, wondering when I should see England again, and the little white cottage above the cliffs, where I pictured to myself my father sitting in the big arm-chair by the fire, telling my mother of some fresh vessel he had been down to the seaport to look at, or of some old shipmate he had met. How I longed to be sitting once more in that snug little parlor; and I began to regret having started on this voyage at all. However, there was no help for it now; and I was just beginning to reckon the probable time that would elapse before I should be on my way home again, when my reveries were cut short by the new mizenmast giving a loud crack. I took the binnacle light and went to examine it. I observed nothing to cause me concern; but nevertheless, I ordered the watch to reef the sail on it, so as to give less strain. Too late. Hardly had the words left my lips when the vessel was caught by a sudden squall, which took the mizenmast by the board and blew the reefed topsails into ribbons. The noise awoke the captain and Harry Murton,
“I'm afraid it's all up with us, Young,” said the former. “Unless the wind goes down, we shall be ashore before morning.”
He then ordered the vessel's head to be kept more away from the wind, and steer nearly south.
“We must try and weather the land,” said he, “until we get round the south end; its our only chance.”
We had not timber sufficient to make another mast, as we had already lost several spars during the early part of the gale.
None of us quitted the deck that night. The Mercury rolled heavily now, as she was almost broadside on to the sea, which was running very high. How anxiously we awaited the first streak of daylight! All on board, were fully aware of the danger we were running. If we failed to clear the land, the vessel would drift against the towering and rugged rocks which formed the sea-coast, and descended sheer into the sea, leaving no hope of our being able to effect a landing, or to run the vessel on the beach. This we had observed on the previous day.
At last the darkness began to grow less pitchy, and soon we were able to make out the coast line, which appeared to be about eight miles distant. We had evidently made very little progress during the night, for we noticed that a high peak which we had seen exactly opposite the preceding evening was over our lee quarter.
“The wind seems to be going down, doesn't it, Mr Young?” remarked the captain to me, as we were examining the coast line through the glasses.
“Yes,” replied I; “but if this swell keeps up, we shall be on the rocks before noon.”
“I wish I could see some inlet or other where we might stand a chance of running the vessel ashore,” said he. “I was told by the Yankee captain in Port Chalmers that there were hundreds of deep bights all along this coast.”
I took the glasses from the Captain, and began scanning the shore very carefully. At last I saw what appeared to be a deep gap between two high rocky points which jutted into the sea. I called the Captain's attention to it, and he, after gazing awhile, handed the telescope to Harry, who was standing beside us, saying—
“Can you make out anything, Murton?”
“There's no doubt of there being an opening of some kind there,” replied Harry; “and the water seems tolerably smooth between the two rocks; but unless the wind keeps up, we shall drift helplessly on to those reefs yonder”—pointing to a group of rocks whose heads just appeared above water right to leeward of us. The opening which we had distinguished was some little distance further on.
Suddenly the wind died away entirely, and we were left pitching about in a fearful manner in the heavy rollers.
Nearer and nearer we drew to the land. By the time breakfast was ready we were within three miles of the Coast.
“We shall never make that gap, in the schooner,” exclaimed Captain Marsh, “and she will not live for an instant on those reefs.” Then after a moment's silence he continued—
“Murton, see the boats are all clear for launching.”
Harry proceeded to get the boats ready.
“Get them well stocked with provisions, some blankets, and anything else that may be needful,” said the Captain; then turning to me—
“If we cannot save the Mercury we may manage to make that opening yonder in the boats.”
“Stand by to let go both anchors!” roared out the Captain immediately afterwards.
The vessel had now drifted within a mile and a-half of the reefs.
“Let go!” and the anchors ran out for some distance, but without seeming to touch the bottom.
“Pay out every inch of spare cable!”
“Aye, aye, sir!” responded the men.
Harry Murton, who had been standing for'ard, then sang out—
“No use, sir! The anchors won't touch the bottom!”
“Men, to your stations at the boats!” came from the Captain as coolly as if we had just dropped anchor in a snug harbor, instead of being almost within a stone's throw of a rock-bound coast in a boiling sea.
“Young, see there's no sudden rushing into the two boats; there's any amount of room if they take care,” said the Captain to me. He then dived below, and after a few minutes' absence returned, bringing up his papers, instruments, &c.
“Young and Murton,” he said, “if you have any valuables, you had better fetch them up.”
But with the exception of some articles of clothing, there was nothing either of us cared about burdening the boats with, except a double-barrelled gun and a good supply of powder and shot; also a bag of bullets, which I had nearly forgotten. Harry had stocked the boats well with everything that he thought would be useful to us, and had also put in his fowling-piece and some ammunition.
All was now ready, and we only waited the Captain's orders to launch the boats. Harry and I were to go in one
“Look out now, lads,” exclaimed the Captain. “Let go the port side.”
This was our boat, and after some difficulty, through the heavy sea running, we all got into her, and clear of the schooner. I took the steer-oar, and kept the boat's head to the sea, while we waited for the Captain's party.
They, fortunately, were equally successful with ourselves, and together the two boats pulled towards the opening we had seen. When we arrived opposite to it the Captain sang out to us to keep outside the breakers until we saw his boat safely inside. He then steered direct for the narrow passage of smooth water between the rocks. We watched him until he had safely passed through it, when he suddenly turned to the right, and we lost sight of him behind one of the rocks.
“Now boys! give way,” I sang out to my crew, and the boat rushed on borne nearly to the opening on the top of a huge wave; then after a few strokes we entered the narrow lane of smooth water. After passing along this for about fifty yards, it suddenly turned at a sharp angle to the right, and we were as nearly as possible running the boat's bows on to the rocks; but with some little difficulty we got round the sharp corner, and after pulling for another few minutes against the tide, which was running out through the confined channel like a mill race, we again turned to the left, and shooting between two high precipitous walls of granite found ourselves in a perfectly landlocked bay, which extended some distance inland, and then seemed to turn to the left. On both sides the mountains towered up thousands of feet, covered from their summits down to the very water's edge with forests and impenetrable underwood.
After continuing for about a mile up the inlet, we found as we had supposed, that it turned to the left; but what was our surprise at not seeing any sign of the Captain's boat ahead of us! We could see right up to the head of the inlet, apparently a distance of about four miles, but there was not a speck on the surface of the water. Thinking, however, that they might have landed somewhere further [on, we] still pulled ahead. After about half-an-hour or more we reached the head of the inlet, without, however, finding any trace of them.
“Wherever can they have got to?” exclaimed Harry. “They must have turned off into some other passage, which we did not observe.”
“The best thing we can do is to pull back immediately,” I returned, “and examine the shores carefully all the way.” At the same time I could not help feeling considerable anxiety about them, and by Harry's countenance I saw he
In our boat were myself and Harry, Peter Smith, Hunter, Spanish Joe, Moroney, and the lad Smart. In the Captain's, besides himself—Murray, Macpherson, Parsons, Hardcastle, and the cook.
On our way back we scanned both sides of the bay, which was in no part more than half a mile wide, inch by inch, but we reached the place where it turned towards the sea, without finding any signs of the missing boat.
We had, however, hardly entered the lower division of the inlet when one of the men sang out that he thought he heard some one shouting to the right.
The bay, immediately inside the narrow passage by which it was connected with the sea, expanded on both sides till it was about half a mile wide, forming two small bays at each corner, and it was from the direction of the one on our right that the sailor thought he had heard the voice come. We therefore pulled towards the place, which like all the rest of the hill-sides was covered down to the water's edge with thick bush.
“Hallo! this way!” shouted a voice from the shore, as we got close in.
After proceeding a few yards further, we saw the cook, “Swabs,” holding on to a rock which could just be seen on a level with the water.
“Where's the boat, and the rest of them?” I said to Swabs, as we hauled him into our midst.
“Lor' only knows, sir,” he answered. “The Captain was going to land here, when the boat ran against this rock, and capsized. I managed to get on to it, though it was two or three feet below the water, but the boat and everything else had disappeared when I got my head above water.”
“Look out, sir!” suddenly sang out Moroney, who was pulling bow oar, “there's a current sucking us towards the trees!”
“Back-water!” I shouted, for I could see a regular eddy between the boat and the shore, and noticed we had just got into its current.
We had a hard struggle to get out of reach of the suction, which had not been noticed before, our attention having been occupied with Swabs.
“God help us!” said Harry, as soon as we were out of danger; “that's where the others have gone”—indicating the place we had just left.
“Pull to the left, lads,” I exclaimed, at the same time steering the boat towards a small point about fifty yards further up than the eddy. In a few seconds we glided alongside the steep bank which formed the shore, then springing ashore and calling on all the men, with the exception of Swabs and Smart, who were left to look after the boat, to follow me, I forced my way in the direction of the other boat's wreck.
It took us nearly a quarter of an hour to reach the place, on account of the dense underwood. When I arrived opposite the rock I stood petrified with horror. Just beneath me, and completely hid from the bay by overhanging bushes, was a fearful chasm, down which the water was rushing from the bay, by the eddy outside, in one boiling mass. It seemed to descend perpendicularly, and to narrow into a funnel some distance from the top.
For a long time none of us spoke. The same thoughts occupied the whole of us. Down that fearful whirlpool had our brave Captain and shipmates been sucked—their mangled remains to be cast up, perhaps, on the rocks outside the bay, or else drawn down into the very bowels of the earth.
“Heaven have mercy on their souls,” at last I exclaimed, while a hushed but fervent “Amen” came from the lips of the rough weather-beaten tars around me.
With heavy hearts and sorrowful countenances we retraced our steps to the boat, where the sad news was related to Swabs and the lad Smart. The poor cook burst into tears when he heard the account of his companions' loss, at the same time thanking the Almighty for his miraculous escape from such a fearful death.
It was now late in the afternoon, but I determined on pulling down to the mouth of the bay and trying to find out what had become of the schooner. Accordingly once more we turned our boat's head in that direction, and in a short time reached the lofty cliffs between which the opening lay. Here I ran the boat alongside the rocks, where we could land, and Harry joining me, together we commenced climbing up the steep sides of the hill, from the top of which we hoped to get a view of the Mercury. After half an hour's struggling—one moment pulling ourselves upwards by the help of boughs, the next crawling on our hands and knees through the dense creepers and undergrowth; anon hanging on by our hands and feet against some steep place, bare of any vegetation—we at last reached the summit of the cliff.
The very first thing we beheld was the schooner, bottom upwards on the reefs before mentioned, while we could see a great rent just above the the keel where she had evidently struck the rocks. Although this was only what we had expected, it seemed to have the effect of making our spirits droop still lower.
Without uttering a word we simultaneously turned and began making the descent to the place where we had left our companions.
When we reached the boat darkness had begun to set in, so, after a short consultation, we decided to return to the head of the inner part of the bay, where there was a small grassy flat, the only one we had observed, and camp for the night.
On landing at this spot, some of us at once proceeded to erect a tent with some spare canvass which we had brought with us in a boat, while the remainder lit a fire, and got supper ready. The meal was eaten in silence, and it was not till we were all seated round the blazing fire afterwards with our pipes lighted, that any attempt at conversation was made. Then I broke the silence by calling the men's attention to our present situation.
“My lads,” I said, “no one feels the loss of our shipmates more than I do; but we must rouse ourselves up, and consider the best means of reaching the inhabited part of this island, for we cannot live here always; and as the gale seems to have exhausted itself, I think we stand a good chance of having a spell of fine weather now. We have provisions to last us for at least two months, and besides, with our guns, we ought to be able to procure some of those ducks we saw on our way up the bay, so there's no chance of our starving at any rate for some time to come. The nearest settlement that I know of to the north of us is Nelson, at the upper end of this island, while at the same time I think there is a whaling station at the very south of the island. It will be for you to decide which of these places we shall attempt to reach.”
After the men had talked for some time amongst themselves, Hunter turned to me, saying—
“We leave it to you, sir; at the same time I may inform you that while in Dunedin frequently heard of several whaling stations along the south coast.”
Harry and I having agreed that it would be most advisable to make for one of these latter stations, I told the men our decision.
No objection being raised by them, it was determined that after two or three days' rest at our present camp, we should start along the coast southwards in the boat.
Everything had been carried out of the boat, and placed under shelter inside the tent; and we now proceeded to unroll the blankets and make up our beds for the night—a good supply of fern and long grass having been previously gathered, and strewn thickly over the floor of the tent. Everything having been at last made tolerably comfortable, we all lay down on our respective couches, and soon nothing was heard but the deep breathing of tired and weary men.
Early next morning we were all astir. The cook lit a fire and proceeded to get some breakfast cooked; the rest of the men, in the meanwhile, started down to the beach to have a look about them.
Suddenly we heard a loud shout, and immediately afterwards one of the party came running up from the beach—Harry and I having stayed behind at the tent—and told us the boat was gone. We rushed down to where the men were standing, and sure enough not a sign of the boat there was.
“The tide has taken her off, sir,” said one of the men: and this was the only solution we could arrive at of the mystery of her disappearance.
“We hauled her well above high-water-mark last night,” replied Harry; “so how could she have got washed adrift?”
On closer examination, however, we found that the tide must have been exceptionally high during the night, and we blamed ourselves accordingly for not making the painter fast as well, though Hunter swore he was positive he had done so.
“Well, lads,” I said, “it's no use crying over spilt milk; but perhaps she may have stranded somewhere else in the bay.”
All caught at the idea, and we determined to try and follow the shores downwards after breakfast, and try to recover the missing boat.
About eight o'clock we divided into two parties—one, under the guidance of Harry, taking the left shore of the bay; and the other, under myself, going to the right.
There is no occasion to describe minutely our respective searches, suffice it to say that both parties returned to camp shortly before sunset, equally unsuccessful, and we came to the inevitable conclusion that the boat had been carried out to sea.
At daybreak the following morning we were all up and astir, and after a good breakfast I called all our party together to consider what was the best course to pursue, now we had lost our boat. Some proposed travelling along the coast southward; others that we should strike due inland and try to cross the island; while the remainder, amongst whom were Harry and myself, thought it would be better to try and construct a boat that would carry us all, and carry out our original intention of coasting along until we arrived at one of the southern whaling stations.
After considerable discussion this last proposal was agreed to.
As it would take some little time to build our boat, the first thing we proceeded to do was to examine our stock of provisions. After everything had been produced, we found that our worldly goods amounted to the following:—One large barrel of biscuit, one of salt beef, one of salt pork, a good supply of tea, coffee, and sugar, a cask of rum, a small bag of Indian corn, ditto of wheat, which had been intended for the fowls on board ship, and had been thrown into the boat by mistake, one large kettle, several pannikins, a frying pan, one saucepan, a few tin plates, a large axe and three
“It is better than I expected,” said Harry after all had been enumerated, “and we might have been very much worse off.”
“Be jabers and you're right, sir,” responded Moroney. “Shure an' if we boys will only work togither, a foine holiday it will be for us.”
“Well said, Moroney,” I answered, “that is the main point. Circumstances might arise to detain us here for some indefinite period, and we must each do our best to make things as comfortable and jolly as possible for the general good.”
A murmur of approbation from the party generally was the only response to my words.
“Well, lads,” I went on, “though not on board ship now, I think we should still be under discipline to a certain extent, so that in case of any dispute or unpleasantness arising between any of our party, the persons concerned must be subject to be judged by a majority of their companions. Is this agreed to?”
“Yes, yes, sir, that's fair,” replied the men.
After a short silence, Hunter turned to me and said—
“We all think, sir, that you and Mr Murton should be our leaders on shore just as you were our officers on board ship, and that any disputes should be referred to you and one of ourselves, and we pledge ourselves to submit to whatever decision you may come to.”
“Then there's nothing else to be done on that subject,” I replied, “and Mr Murton and myself in return promise you we will do our share of all work with yourselves, and be entirely guided by the majority in all cases affecting the general welfare.”
“Hooroo, boys!” shouted Moroney. “Three cheers for our new captain and Mr Murton!”
The men responded heartily, and after “splicing the main brace” all round from our keg of rum, we proceeded to discuss our plans for the day.
It was decided that while Harry and the greater number of the men remained in camp and proceeded to erect a more substantial shelter than our tent afforded, the remainder, together with myself, were to explore the dense forest behind us, and mark out the best trees we could find for boat-building purposes, and at the same time make ourselves better acquainted with the neighborhood.
Before detailing our day's adventures, I will describe the general features of our camp and the surrounding landscape.
The tent was pitched at the corner edge of a small grassy flat, of about three acres in extent. This flat was bounded by the thick bush behind, on each side by high and very steep ridges, which, rising from the snow-clad mountains a short distance inland, continued downwards, for about four miles below the camp, and formed the inner bay. At the place where the inlet turned towards the sea, these two ridges branched off, forming the lower bay, where the whirlpool was situated.
In front of the flat was a small shingly beach forming a semi-circle of about two hundred yards in length. Behind the tent, the ravine continued back between the two ridges before mentioned, rising gradually till it ended in the high mountains already described. A good-sized stream flowed out of it, and passed within a few yards of the tent, falling into the bay near the left corner of the beach.
Taking my fowling-piece and a stock of ammunition with me, I started with my party, consisting of Spanish Joe and young Smart, up the gorge at the back. We took enough salt junk and biscuit to furnish us with a meal in case we should not return till late.
Following the course of the stream we had the greatest difficulty for some time in making our way through the thick undergrowth of creepers, but after proceeding for about a mile it became clearer, and at last we found ourselves walking in comparatively open spaces between the stems of high black and white pines. As we continued the scenery became more varied. Tall and graceful ferns might be seen growing on the sides of the ravine; totara trees with long streamers of moss hanging from their branches; the konini with its ripe and tempting fruit; but at this time we neither knew the names of these trees nor whether their fruit was fit to eat; it was only sometime afterwards when “necessity knew no law,” that we cautiously tested the different kinds of berries we found.—But more of this in its proper place.
Still following the stream, we found ourselves gradually ascending until we were brought to a stand-still by a steep cliff about thirty feet high, over which the stream fell in an unbroken sheet into a small basin at the foot. There was nothing for it but to turn off up the side of the ravine, and reach the level of the precipice that way, as it was almost perpendicular at the place where we now stood, without shrubs or climbing plants of any kind to help us up.
Keeping close to the cliff we turned off to the right, and after a little rough scaling the steep side of the gorge we found a place where we thought it might be possible to gain the summit of the cliff.
Slinging my gun over my back I began climbing, holding on to small shrubs or inequalities of the rock which composed the cliff. I had got about half way up, and was congratulating myself on having got over the worst part, when my footing gave way and down I went amongst a shower of loose rock and dirt, to the bottom, nearly crushing poor Joe, who was standing underneath.
After examining my fowling-piece, and satisfying myself that it was uninjured, I started to make another attempt, and this time, after no little exertion, succeeded in reaching the top. Joe and Smart found an easier place of ascent a little further up, and very shortly we were all three again following up the banks of our little stream.
A few hundred yards further, and what was our disgust to find ourselves confronted by another small precipice, if anything, higher than the last. After examining it for a few moments we came to the conclusion that at the sacrifice of dry feet, we might make our way up by entering the stream, which had worn out a narrow channel in the cliff, and which, by the broken water, was evidently filled with large boulders or masses of rock.
Taking off our boots and socks, which we slung over our shoulders, and turning up our trousers above our knees, we entered the stream.
“Diable! it cold!” yelled out Joe, and no mistake it was, freezing. However, there was no help for it, so alternately chattering out some uncomplimentary remark at the water, or the sharp rocks, we succeeded at last in attaining the summit, and stepping out of the stream we lost no time in putting on our dry boots and socks; for our feet were almost like lumps of ice.
In front of us the trees and underwood were apparently as thick as in the vicinity of the tent. I proposed that if after penetrating for a short distance into the bush, we found it did not get clearer, we should eat our lunch, and then retrace our steps to the camp. Accordingly we once more entered the almost impenetrable mass of lawyers, supplejacks, and other interlaced creeping plants, which stretched from tree to tree, and completely overran all the smaller shrubs.
I was just going to turn back in disgust, when I thought I saw an opening some little distance in front. This became more certain after we had advanced a few more paces; till at last, forcing ourselves through a matted barrier, which appeared to be composed of all the creepers and thorny plants in existence, a scene of loveliness, which I shall never forget, burst upon our delighted gaze.
On either hand the sides of the ravine curved away to the right and left until they must have been nearly two miles apart, when they again turned inwards until they seemed to meet about three miles above where we stood. In the centre of the almost circular valley thus enclosed, reposed a lovely lake. It was about two miles in length by one-and-a-half in width. The forest only reached to just the foot of the ridges, and between that and the lake, and entirely surrounding the latter, was a lovely space covered with a short green grass. Near the middle of the lake was a small islet thickly covered with trees to the water's edge, so that it really looked from where we stood, as if it was a number of trees floating on the water. On the bosom of the lake numbers of wildfowl were swimming, or else flying across it, while above our heads blue pigeons with white breasts, parrots, and numerous other birds were flying about amongst pines, other trees, and shrubs which composed the belt of the forest which encircled the lake, and covered the hill sides in all directions.
“Santissimo! dis is Paradise!” shouted Joe, breaking the silence, and capering about in all directions.
“Yes,” said Smart, “and narrow is the road, and crooked the path which leadeth to it.”
“Well, let's have something to eat, after our toilsome journey,” I said, after Joe had managed to bring himself to a reasonable state—“that is, if Joe has not lost it all.”
Choosing a shady place under some overhanging boughs—for the sun, which had hitherto been almost obscured by clouds, now burst out in all his glory—Joe produced his provisions, and flask of rum, while Smart went to the edge of the lake and brought some water in the crown of his hat, which luckily was tolerably clean. Afterwards we all set to work, and in a very short space of time made the salt junk and biscuit look very small.
Leaving Joe where he was, and telling Smart to come with me, I proceeded round the left side of the lake to try and get a shot at some of the ducks or other waterfowl. I had no difficulty whatever in getting within range, for the birds seemed to feel not the slightest alarm at our presence. Choosing some that were a little apart from the others I fired both barrels, one after the other.
A scene of confusion arose amongst all the feathered denizens of the lake and neighborhood at the report of my gun, that could not be described. The waterfowl flew hither and thither, evidently quite bewildered; while pigeons and other bush birds rose into the air high above the tops of the trees, and after flying round and round in circles, descended for a few moments, when up they would rise again. The rude shock I had given to their nerves, however, hardly gave me a second thought, for my attention was too much occupied in devising some plan for obtaining possession of the several ducks which floated apparently quite dead on the surface of the lake, about fifty yards from the shore. The only way to bring them ashore must be by swimming out for them.
I turned round to Smart, but by the rueful face he had on him, he evidently had had enough of cold water for one day; so handing him my gun, I quickly stripped and plunged in. Either my experience earlier in the day had
“Aren't you frozen, sir?” inquired young Smart, as I landed, looking at the same time as if he expected me to go into cramps or some other frightful thing.
“Oh, no! you had better take a dip yourself,” I replied.
“Deuce a fear,” I heard him mutter to himself; then sudddenly a thought seemed to strike him, for he said—
“I wonder is there no other easier way of getting down to camp than following the creek all the way?”
This idea had struck me several times on the way up, and I determined on our return to keep along the side of the ravine until we got past the two precipices.
Having re-dressed myself, and picked up my gun, we made our way to where we had left Joe, Smart carrying the ducks. We found our worthy companion lying on his back in the sun, fast asleep, while his clay pipe, which had dropped from his month, lay broken beside him.
“Oh me pepe! me pepe!” he exclaimed on our rousing him up. “Carai! me buenos pepe! I sall die vidout me pepe!”
Anyone would think he had lost the throne of Spain instead of a dirty black pipe without so much as an inch of a stem to it. But there was no time for lamenting his loss now, for it was getting late in the afternoon; and we had a weary march back yet. So suggesting to Joe that he should take the bowl of his pipe home with him, as he might find some means of fixing a stem to it, we started on the down track.
We found the route I had chosen for our return—namely, along the side of the ravine on the right—anything but easy; and the day had well declined when we found ourselves below the lower precipice. However, we reached the camp just at dark, without any further adventure; and right glad were we to find ourselves once more seated round the blazing camp fire, discussing a savory meal of roast duck, and boiled fish—the latter having been procured by the cook. He had observed some large ones leaping out of the water below the camp, and having found several hooks in his pockets, with these and some unspun rope yarn he had manufactured some good lines, and succeeded in landing a supply of first-class cod.
After supper I related our day's adventures, and further that I had noticed several trees that I had no doubt would suit very well for building our boat.
“But there is one thing, lads,” I continued, “that we ought well to consider, and it is this: The winter season is just coming on, and in this part of the island I know it is very severe. If we are caught in our boat anywhere along this coast, we should stand a very poor chance indeed. The gales come on very suddenly, and frequently last for some weeks at a time. Before we can get our boat built, the stormy weather will be fairly set in. Here we have good quarters, and no chance of running short of provisions. I propose we should make up our minds to remain here till the stormy season is over, which won't be, however, for another four or five months. We can be building our boat in the meantime, and start immediately the fine weather returns.”
Oh, that these words had never been spoken! that I could recall them now, and alter the course of events which they led to! what misery would have been prevented; and lives saved! But it is no use grieving over them now. They were spoken, thinking they would be the saving instead of the destruction of many a warm and honest-hearted comrade.—Enough of this; a truce to unavailing remorse and regrets.
My speech, at least the latter part, took the men quite aback; even Harry I could see was undecided. They had all made up their minds that a month or six weeks was to be the utmost limit of their exile in this spot, and the idea of remaining in it for a so much longer period—comfortable, comparatively speaking, as their sojourn would be—was evidently not at all relished.
“Well, mates,” I said, after a dead silence for some minutes, “I only lay the proposition before you; it rests entirely with yourselves whether you agree to it or not. I tell you these facts because, as you have appointed me your leader, I think it my duty to do so. Supposing, if a gale caught us, and we were not wrecked, but managed to get ashore, should we be likely to hit upon such another place as this? More likely we should be thrown against the precipitous cliffs or on to the reefs; and what chance should we stand of saving our lives then? Don't think, either, that our voyage to some whaling station will be short—it may take us weeks; for I for one do not know the length of this coast. I am just as eager as any one of you to reach some settlement again, but I have well considered the whole matter, and have given you my candid opinion. You had better think over it to-night, and give me your answer in the morning. Of course I abide entirely by your decision.”
During the remainder of the evening the question was discussed amongst the men; while I retired early into the tent with Harry, for I wished to converse with him privately, and interchange our joint ideas on the subject. From the tent I could hear the men talking, and noticed that Spanish Joe and young Smart were trying to persuade the men into my way of thinking.
The conversation which I overheard between Joe and Moroney amused me greatly. They were sitting a short distance from the rest, and nearer the tent.
“Divil take me if ever I hope to set foot in Ould Oireland agin,” said Moroney. “Shure an' I've bin kickin' about this part of the wurld fur near tin years now, intindin' to go home ivery blissed day; an' here I be now, further off thin iver.”
“Buenos! muchez buenos!” replied Joe; “dat is true; but if we do dis von ting ve be drownded us vill. Diable! but better much vait small few months, den not die.”
“Whose agoin' to die! Nary this boy. Did ye niver hear in Dunadin that thur wur harburiginals or some other craturs hereabouts who roast and bile white people?” And Pat looked anxiously behind him as if he expected every moment to feel a Maori warrior's hatchet buried in his skull.
“Nevare heard of dem,” responded Joe, “but me no mind; de Signor Capitani no afraid; me no afraid either.”
“Aren't ye now! faith, that's quare! you've got more pluck than ye git cradit for if what ye're telling me is thruth. I say, Joe, were ye iver in Oireland?”
“No,” said Joe.
“Thin take my advice and niver sit yer ugly fut inter it; for shure they'll be afther takin' you for a gintleman; and the Holy Mother presarve thim from from that.”
“I go bunk now, sleep. Buenos nochez,” so saying the Spaniard rose and came towards the tent; but seeing Harry and I sitting up, he was going to turn back again, when I called to him not to mind us.
Entering the tent, he began undressing, and was shortly followed by the rest of the men. Harry and I not feeling inclined for bed went outside and strolled down to the edge of the water.
It was a beautiful clear moonlight night, with hardly a breath of air stirring. For some time we both stood in silence contemplating the calm surface of the bay below us, in which the stars were reflected as in a mirror.
“Well, Young,” said Harry, breaking the spell which seemed to have hitherto kept us from speaking, “you may be right or wrong in your reasoning; but I'm very much afraid the men will be against remaining here for so long a time as you propose.”
“Which way will you vote,” I said, answering him with a question.
“I will stick by you, Dick, whatever happens,” replied Harry; “we have sailed too long together now for us to go under different flags.”
“Thank you, old fellow,” I exclaimed; “in proposing what I did, I only acted according to my way of thinking, and right or wrong I mean to stick to it; but of course we must fall in with the majority of the men.”
“I wonder,” continued my companion, “if what Moroney said about there being natives round on this coast is true. I never heard of them while in Dunedin, or from the Captain.”
“Nor I,” I replied; “nevertheless I don't see why there should not be. At the same time I don't think any of those in this island are at war with the Europeans now.”
“I think Smart could tell us something about the natives,” observed Harry; “I know he partly understands their language, and I imagine he must have had a good deal of intercourse with them.”
“We'll make a point of questioning him on the subject in the morning,” I answered; “and now think we had better be turning in.”
So saying, we retraced our steps to the tent, and sought relief from all worldly cares and thoughts in the arms of Morpheus.
It seemed as if I had hardly got fairly asleep when I was woke up by some of the men talking.
“Divil a draming I was,” exclaimed Pat. “May the Holy Mother niver forgive me if it was not a thrue hathen I heard yellin'!”
“What's the matter, Pat?” asked Harry, who had been aroused as well as myself.
“Shure, sir, an' I don't know; but there was some onarthly sounds outside just now.”
“Oh! he's been dreaming, sir,” said one of the men; “I've been awake this last half hour, and have heard nothing extraordinary.”
“Thin ye wur at the whiskey-keg, be gorrah! afore yez came to bed.”
“But what was the noise like that you think you heard, Pat?” I enquired.
“Think, sir! Bedad, may I niver set fut on Ould Oireland agin if I had any thought about it. Be Saint Patrick, it give sich an awful screech, and then a bawl, all of a suddent, that I had no time to think.”
“Well, we had better lie down again,” I suggested, seeing that Pat was evidently under the impression, whether with or without any good reason, that he had heard
“Shure, an' is it meself, sir, ye would loike to see murthered by a lot of unarthly varmints?”
Pat was still muttering away when I once more rolled myself up in my blanket and fell asleep.
However, it seemed as if we were doomed to have no peace that night; for shortly after I had again snoozed off, I was roused out of my sleep by Pat shaking me by the shoulder, and whispering in my ear, “Did you hear that, sir?”
I felt inclined to be angry with the man, but the poor fellow was evidently seriously alarmed at something, so I determined to lie awake for a short time and listen. After a few moments, I thought I heard some kind of cry, but apparently well up the ravine. Pat, whose nerves and senses were evidently painfully on the alert, gave a regular start at the sound, and I could hear him repeating all manner of prayers, and invoking all the saints in the calendar.
“Ha! ha! ha! Screech! screech! screech!” followed by a low, mournful kind of whistling, was the next thing we heard from immediately at the back of the tent.
“Oh! Holy Mother! Saint Patrick have mercy on us! Och be gorrah! What will I do?” yelled poor Pat, springing to his feet, and shivering from head to foot.
And really for some moments after the noises had died away, I felt almost petrified, and I could feel the damp moisture oozing out of my temples, and a cold shiver ran all through my veins. The noises commenced with a loud guffaw; then, as if taken up by some second agent, followed several most unearthly shrieks, concluding with a sound between a whistle and a moan, which, starting at a very
No wonder poor Pat was badly scared; I only wondered I had not heard it before. All the men had evidently been awakened by the last outcry, and were holding their breath and listening for a repetition of the sounds.
“I say, Young,” said Harry at last, “very rum noises those.”
“Imps of Purgatory,” muttered Pat.
“Well, I answered at last, when I pretty well recovered from my start, “imps or no imps, I'm going to find out who they are,” and seizing my gun I lifted the curtain of the tent and stepped out. The moon was just sinking behind the headland below the bay, but it was still light enough for me to see any objects on the open space about the tent.
Harry followed me out, and together we proceeded to reconnoitre the vicinity of the tent. We walked round it without observing anything there, and the bush behind was too thick for us to be able to see anything in that direction; so, as it was freezing hard, we came to the conclusion it was useless our fossicking round any longer.
We re-entered the tent and lay down, but there was no more sleep for us that night.
“Ye'll not be afther wantin' to remain in this unarthly spot any longer, sir, will yez?” said Pat, addressing me. “Shure I belave we've got into purgatory itself, though the priests (bless their reverences) must have made a mistake when they tould us thim parts were moighty hot.”
“Well, Pat,” I answered, “we'll wait till the morning, when, perhaps, we may be able to arrive at some solution of the mystery.”
As none of the men seemed inclined to go to sleep, I questioned the lad Smart as to his knowledge of there being any natives on this coast.
“Natives,” exclaimed Pat, “They're bigger fools than I take 'em for if they come within a hundred moiles of this hathenish place.”
“Well, sir,” said Smart, who had been interrupted by Pat, “I've seen and heard a good deal of the natives during the few years I've been in New Zealand, and as regards this part of the coast I remember some Maoris at Port Cooper once telling me there were some ‘wild men,’ as they called them, round on this side of the island; and, furthermore, explained that they were not Maories, but the remnants of some former inhabitants who were driven away from the east side of the country, and forced to live on this part.”
“Are they hostile to Europeans, do you know?” I further asked.
“That I can't say, sir; for I never heard of any Europeans having come across these ‘wild men’ yet.”
This was about all the information Smart could give us that could be of any use or interest to us.
In thus talking, however, the night gradually passed away, and with the first streak of dawn everybody was up and outside the tent. Of course the great subject of interest was the mysterious noises of the preceding night. With the dispersion of darkness all Pat's fears and alarm disappeared, and he now challenged all the unknown visitors of last night to show themselves, and not hide away from honest people's sight during the day.
Numerous were the conjectures hazarded as to what sort of creatures had caused such excitement in our camp.
“I believe it was nothing more or less than savages,” said one.
“Nothing human in that infernal cry, said a second. “I always believed in ghosts, and no doubt its in this here out-of-the-way place they send 'em to live.”
“Ghosts!” said a third; “whoever heard of ghosts with tongues?” to fear. There were a powerful pair of wind-bags employed to drive that barrel-organ.”
“Perhaps, after all, it was only some bird or other,” suggested Smith. “I remember once when in Sydney seeing a bird they called a laughing jackass, which used to burst his sides with laughing and screaming.”
“Well, whatever our disagreeable neighbor is,” I said, “we must not stand talking here all day; and as I see Swabs has got our breakfast ready we had better be eating it.”
During the meal I brought up the question of the previous day, as to whether we were to stay here till after the winter season, or begin building our boat at once, and start immediately that work was completed, trusting to Providence to guide us safely through any storms or other dangers we might encounter on the way.
The men were evidently unwilling to give an answer one way or the other, or perhaps had not given the subject as much consideration as they could have wished. Seeing this, I proposed my original motion to remain until after the winter, and called upon the men to hold up their hands if in favor of my proposition.
“Give us till to-night, sir,” said Hunter. “A day cannot make any difference one way or the other.”
“Time is precious, my lads,” I answered. If we are to start as soon as the boat is built, the sooner we set about that work the better, as every day brings the stormy weather nearer; and indeed, I don't think I am far wrong in saying that it is almost upon us now. However, let us wait till tonight if you wish; but let us decide then, and put it off no longer.”
After breakfast it was proposed that we should separate into several parties and explore the neighborhood carefully in case of any natives being in the vicinity. We divided ourselves into three parties; Harry and Moroney were to climb the ridge to the left, and search as far as possible in that direction; Hunter, Spanish Joe, and Smith were to do the same in the direction of the right; while I, taking Smart with me, proposed mounting the same ridge as Harry's party, and then following it right up as far as possible, Harry in the meantime descending on the other side. Swabs was to stay in camp and look after our things.
Bidding one another good-bye, we started on our respective ways. After parting with Harry and his men on the top of the ridge, Smart and I began following up the summit, gradually ascending higher and higher. My intentention was to try and reach a very high spur which branched off from the main one some distance above us, and from
The sun had passed the meridian when we at last found ourselves standing on a bare plain of about an acre in extent, which formed the summit of the spur we had been making for. I was not disappointed in my expectations of having a good view from this point. Far below us, and stretching away north and south and to the horizon, was the ocean. In vain I scanned it with my small pocket-glass for a sail. It was unbroken, save by the white crests of the waves, which seemed to be running high. Turning to the right, the opposite ridge completely shut out any further view of the country in that direction. Towards the left, however, we could see over the next spurs; and beyond them the same wild densely-wooded ranges and dark ravines appeared as those in our immediate vicinity. Behind us the ridge rose higher and higher until it joined the towering snow-peaked mountains, which ran parallel with the coast, and seemed to form the backbone of the island.
“Surely no human beings have ever lived in these parts,” remarked Smart; “there does not appear to be the slightest indication of any inhabitants.”
“No,” said I; “however, perhaps our companions may have discovered some traces of natives nearer the seashore.”
It was now time to think of returning to camp, and I determined to strike straight down the right side of the ridge, instead of retracing our steps by the way we came up. By doing this I judged we should hit the small lake we had discovered the day before; and perhaps be able to shoot a few ducks for supper, I having brought my gun with me.
Having arrived at this decision, we regained the main ridge, and began descending the opposite side. It was rough and rather dangerous work, for now and then we loosened large stones, which would carry us off our feet, landing us on our backs. On reaching the bottom I found we had struck rather below the lake; so we turned upwards, and soon emerged on the clear space which surrounded it. As Smart was evidently getting knocked up, I told him to remain where he was and rest, while I went in search of some game.
These were apparently all near the upper end of the lake, so I started in that direction, following the left shore. After walking nearly two miles, I came within gun-shot of a flock of teal. I was standing at the outer end of a small spit of land which projected into the lake, and the birds were swimming about between me and the upper shore, a distance of only about a hundred yards. Seeing my gun was properly loaded, I raised it to my shoulder and fired, and had the satisfaction of seeing two birds floating dead on the face of the water; but to get them it was necessary for me to get round to the upper shore of the lake. In a few moments I arrived opposite them, and in another brief space of time I had the birds safely landed. There was now no time to be lost in returning to camp; so slinging the teal over my gun, I started to rejoin Smart, following the opposite bank of the lake to that I had come by. This brought me very near the small island which was before mentioned as being apparently situated near the middle of the lake, but was evidently much closer to this side than the other.
Arrived opposite the island, curiosity prompted me to swim across to it, the distance being only about a hundred yards. Late as it was, I could not resist the temptation to become better acquainted with this silent little spot.
The thick bushes completely overhung the water on this side, but on swimming some distance round it I discovered a clear space of ground, on which I landed. The island could not have been more than twenty or thirty square yards in extent.
Pushing aside the thick bushes, I found myself in a small clear space, so completely surrounded and enclosed by the dense undergrowth that I could not see the slightest opening in any direction; nor was the water which surrounded this little isle visible in any way. But what astonished me most was a small dilapidated hut which stood at the foot of a good-sized tree that grew at one end of the open space.
Advancing towards it with the utmost caution, I reached what had once been a rude doorway. The hut had been built of a few upright logs placed in the ground, and the interstices filled up with clay and long grass. The roof was composed of rafters, tied with flax to a ridge-pole and to the upright logs, and the whole was thatched with the same long grass that had been used for the sides. The hut could not have been more than five feet high, and ten feet long by four or five in width. The whole structure was very rudely put together, and for some time I was at a loss to conjecture whether it had been built by natives or Europeans. On entering the open doorway, however, I found clear evidence of it having been inhabited by the former, though seemingly not for a long time. In one corner was a heap of fern and grass, which had not been disturbed or lain on for a considerable period, as shoots of long rank grass had grown up through it, and the fern was was quite rotten and decayed. In another corner I found a rough fish-hook made of bone,
How long I might have gone on raking up the dead fern, etc., and searching every corner for something else, it is hard to tell; but I was brought to my senses by feeling myself getting chilled, for it must be remembered that all this time I had not an inch of a garment of any description on me. This reminded me that it would be dark before I got home, and, besides, Smart would be getting anxious about me.
Emerging from the hut I found the air very cold, which indicated that the sun was getting low; so bidding good-bye for the present to the hut and its sombre little resting spot, I plunged into the water, and was soon ashore. Quickly putting on my clothes, I started at a brisk pace, and shortly afterwards rejoined Smart, who was beginning to wonder at my prolonged absence. He being quite rested and refreshed, we set off down our old tracks towards the camp. The sun set before we were half way home, but luckily the moon was near the full, otherwise we should have stood a good chance of spending the night in the bush.
Just as we were within a few yards of the edge of the bush at the back of the tent, we were brought to a sudden standstill by a repetition of the mysterious voices of the previous night. They came from a thick mass of underwood which separated us from the tent. Goodness!—how my blood did creep and turn cold, while poor young Smart kept close up to my side, shivering and shaking with fright.
“Confound it all,” I at last exclaimed, recovering myself with an effort, “I'm not going to stand this kind of
Pushing forward, I forced myself right into the midst of the thick barrier of bushes, etc., from which the sounds had proceeded. I looked and peered in every direction without seeing any sign of a living creature, and was just going to sing out to my companions at the camp, when from a bush close to my ear burst forth again the hideous unearthly laugh!
This was too much. With a yell that would have done credit to a North American Indian, I gave two or three tremendous leaps, and alighted right in the midst of our companions, who were standing round the fire, evidently expecting the appearance of some fearful monster from the gloomy woods. My sudden entrance into their midst, however, was nearly proving fatal to me; for Harry, on first hearing the strange cries, had seized his gun, ready to use it on the first sign of any man or beast which showed themselves, and the awful yell I gave, combined with the mysterious noise just preceding it, made the men really believe that some devilish creature was bursting out of the forest to attack them. Harry raised his gun, and had I been in the slightest degree less active than I was, I should have terminated my career then once and for ever. As it was, he fired, but luckily just too late, for I heard the shot whistle over my head as I alighted on my feet amongst them.
The first few moments of surprise over, the men simultaneously put the question, “Where is Smart?”
But my tongue refused to speak; and the men, putting their own construction on my silence, began to manifest fresh symptoms of alarm.
Suddenly we were startled by a shout from the edge of the bush, and at the same time Smart emerged, swinging
“I've got him!” he exclaimed. “See the ‘imp of darkness,’ the ‘wild Maori,’ the ‘inhabitant of Purgatory,’ which has frightened the very senses out of eight English sailors!” Then rushing into our midst he held up a large black-plumaged bird.
“How did you catch him?” cried everyone at once.
“Why, you see,” said Smart, who was evidently not a little elated at his triumph, “You see, I was following close at the captain's heels when he was searching the thick bushes from which the cries had come. When they were repeated close to our ears the second time, I was quite paralyzed; the captain's yell roused me and this noble bird at the same time, for he flew out of the tree right against me, nearly knocking me down. In my fright I grappled him in my arms, and then the whole truth of the mysterious sounds burst plainly on my mind. ‘So you are our worthy friend of last night, are you?’ I cried, at the same time knocking his head against a tree, whereupon he gave vent to the very hideous laugh that has startled us so. I quickly despatched him, rushed out of the bush, and here I am.”
“And are you shure it was this same bird as made all thim hullaballoos?” inquired Pat, evidently not half satisfied yet.
“Yes, I'm certain,” replied the lad.
“Thin, good riddance to bad rubbish!” said Pat. “Take that!” giving the bird a kick, “for a dirty ugly spalpeen that ye are!”
Cook now announced that supper was ready, and we lost no time in setting-to, our day's hard walking having given us all keen appetites. While regaling ourselves on a first course of fish, cook proceeded to clean and roast the teal
Hunter's narrative of their day's events was of no particular interest; they had discovered no signs of natives, and reported that the appearance of the country beyond the high ridge on the right-hand side of our little camp tallied almost exactly with that I had seen in the opposite direction; the same range after range of steep, densely-wooded heights; the same dark ravines running back to the mountains.
Neither had Harry's party made any discoveries of inhabitants; but he reported that, having descended to the beach opposite where the schooner was wrecked, they found the shore strewn with numerous remains of herself and her stores; the wreck itself had entirely disappeared. Amongst other things, they picked up a small barrel of gunpowder, and in a seaman's chest washed ashore they found, besides a lot of clothes, a rifle taken to pieces, together with a supply of cartridges. These things, together with the gunpowder, though slightly damaged by the water, were yet of considerable value to us, and had been divided between Harry and Maroney and brought home; the powder having been previously removed from the keg, and tied up in two pieces of sail-cloth found on the beach. The chest was identified as having belonged to poor Macpherson. It was not without considerable difficulty and toil that the two managed to transport their additional burdens over the steep ridge to the camp; but they succeeded at last, and earned the
“And now once again, boys,” I said, when all the day's events had been told, “once again and finally let us decide the important question of our future movements.”
While we had been talking, heavy clouds had begun to gather above and around us; the wind moaned through the trees, and came in gusts down the ravine. Hardly had I finished my sentence when heavy drops of rain began to fall. Everyone immediately sprang to his feet, and the few articles that were scattered round the fire were hastily conveyed under cover, and we all hurried under the shelter of the tent. In a few minutes afterwards the wind had risen to a perfect hurricane, the rain falling in torrents.
Luckily we were well protected from the violence of the former by the high hills surrounding us and the bush behind the tent; but the rain very soon flooded the small level space in front and at the sides of us, and by the morning the water was some inches deep.
This gale decided the men to give up any idea of starting southwards until after the winter; and as the spot we were then camped on was evidently unsuited, on account of its low-lying position, for a permanent abode during the rainy season, it was agreed that we should migrate to the borders of the lake further up the ravine, and there erect a more substantial dwelling than the tent would be.
Next day the rain ceased, and we determined to lose no time in removing all our goods, tent, etc., up to the lake, and select a place to build a hut.
It took us some days to transport everything; but eventually we had all our worldly possessions stowed away under cover of the tent, which had been pitched under some high trees, about twenty yards from the right shore of the lake. Here we decided to erect the hut also, and lost no time in setting to work upon it. While some of us selected and cut suitable timber, others removed it to the appointed site, where a third party, under the direction of Harry, shaped the logs and planted them in the ground to form the sides and ends of the building.
A short description of the hut we were putting up will not here be amiss. First, we traced the outlines of its walls on the ground by digging a narrow trench. It was to be about thirty feet long by fifteen in width, and to consist of two apartments—the inner to be used as a sleeping-room; the outer as a dining room, kitchen, and for all general purposes. Next we planted upright logs, of about ten feet in
We had fortunately brought a stock of nails from the schooner, otherwise we should have had a great deal of extra trouble, boring holes for wooden pegs, which, as it was, we had to do in some cases.
To make the hut warm and tight we filled up the interstices between the logs with stiff clay mixed with grass. We also managed to erect a rough chimney with slabs and clay. In the outer, or general room, we put up a rude table, with seats round it, and embellished the apartment in every way possible to ensure comfort.
In the inner or sleeping apartment we put up bunks all round the walls, one for each of the party, and the floors of both rooms we first covered with logs, and over the whole strewed a plentiful supply of fern, dry grass, and moss, to keep us off the damp ground.
All round the outside of the hut, and close to its walls, we dug a ditch to carry off the water to the lake, and keep it from lying in the vicinity.
The only thing that inconvenienced us was the want of glass windows. True, we had left two small square holes in the walls of each room, into each of which we had fitted a rough shutter, but we could only open them in fine weather,
It must not be supposed that the hut was erected, and other necessary preparations made for the winter, in a day. It cost us fully a month's hard labor before everything was ready.
As we did not know but what the numerous kinds of waterfowl on the lake might migrate to milder parts during the winter, we thought it best to lay in a stock of them at once; and either Harry, myself, or one of the men, sometimes all of us, would start early in the morning, not only to shoot waterfowl, but also pigeons and several kinds of parrots which abounded in the bush about us, and it was rarely we returned without full game-bags. Amongst other birds, we killed numerous woodhens, which yielded us a large supply of oil and fat. This, during the winter, we found of great service, as we managed to make rough lamps with it and some cotton-yarn.—It was not till some years after, when living in Canterbury, that I found out the names of all the birds and trees which we found in the vicinity and neighborhood of our hut; but to save confusion I will give them their proper names, though I have only learnt them since. The ducks and pigeons we preserved by first roasting them, and then putting them in rough barrels, or rather boxes, and pouring boiling fat over them. When thus packed they would keep for months.
We hollowed out a good-sized tree, and made an attempt at a canoe with it. It served well enough, and would carry two of us on the lake when we went duck-shooting. While these various operations were in progress, we did not omit
And now the stormy weather became more continuous, and less interrupted by fine days, till at last we were almost entirely confined to the hut. We took it in turns to sally outside and collect fresh supplies of wood every day. We lived almost entirely on wild fowl and fish, the former falsifying our expectations of their deserting us, and with the latter the lake was swarming. Two kinds especially were numerous—namely, a kind of eel, very short and thick, and a species of trout, which was very good eating indeed. Besides these, we occasionally had a little variation in the way of salt beef and pork. As for vegetables, with the exception of a kind of cabbage, which was rather bitter to the taste, and the large leaves of a species of shrub, which, when boiled, tasted not unlike celery, we had none. The bags of Indian corn and wheat we had saved from the wreck were never touched.
We amused ourselves as best we could—by telling yarns, exchanging our respective histories, and in general conversation. The only books which we possessed were two found in the seaman's chest picked up on the beach; one a copy of “Gulliver's Travels,” and the other a “Guide to Knowledge”—a very useful book in its way, no doubt, but not likely to benefit us in our present situation. “Gulliver's Travels” were read and re-read aloud several times, and many were the remarks and conjectures passed on that wonderful book.
Young Smart had managed to capture two large parrots alive, and Pat had got hold of a young “laughing-jackass,”
Smart, assisted by the men, managed to get his two parrots to chatter a few words and short sentences, and, amongst others, taught them to malign poor Rory. “Jackass! Rory, Rory, Rory,” one would scream; “Black sweep, sweep, sweep!” yelled the other. Then both at once would abuse poor Rory at the highest pitch of their voices. Nor was it only the bird that got thus abused; its master's name was very frequently also mixed up with Rory's in no very complimentary terms.
One morning, on coming in after taking a look outside, I was greatly amused.
“Rory—black jackass!” screamed Parrot No. 1.
“I'll break your blessed nut for ye,” said Pat, shaking his fist at the offending parrot.
“Pat! Pat! Pat!—black sweep Pat;” from Parrot No. 2.
“Hould yer tongue, I tell ye, ye foul-mouthed blaguard ye!” sang out Pat.
“Pat, Rory, jackass, black sweep! Pretty Poll!” answered both parrots at once. Nor were there wanting
“Rory, don't you take any notice of sich unmannerly spalpeens as thim two,” said Pat to the object of all this vituperation. “Right glad I am to see ye houlding no conversation with them at all; it does grate credit to yer bringing up, darlint.”
Rory all this time was quietly perched on a forked stick which his master had stuck into the floor for him, and seemed equally indifferent to the calumniations of his enemies and the praise of his friends. The parrots were just beginning at him again, when he burst out into a regular guffaw, followed by the usual ear-rending shrieks, etc., which so astonished his tormentors, that for the space of nearly half an hour they could do nothing but stare first at him and then at us, as if asking us for an explanation of such an uproar. At last one of them gave vent to the singularly concise expression—
“Golly!”
“Oh, golly!” repeated No. 2.
“Ye see, ye ugly varmints, the gintleman sated yonder only laughs at yer low-bred insinuations.”
“Very good reason why, Pat,” said Smart, “he knows they tell the truth, and tries to laugh it off.”
“An' do ye mane to say that Rory could not talk as well as your addle-headed cockatoo?” said Moroney indigdignantly, “Don't yer see as how he's dressed in respectable black clothes? an' shure he would'nt disgrace his calling by stooping to spake to sich low-bred birds as thim. Nary a bit of it; if he cannot git gintlemen to talk to, divil a spake ye'll hear from him;” after saying which he deliberately turned his back and began whistling—
“St. Pathrick was a gintleman, And came from dacent people.”