The Germ Growers: An Australian story of adventure and mystery by Robert Potter (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

was so small that we did not care to drink after him if it could be helped; but by digging with our hands in the sand a little higher up we got a sufficient supply of water that was fairly good.

We had now got all out of the horse that we were [259] likely to get. This water meant life for a day or two longer. It seemed now to be the best course for us to start from this point due east. If the wire were even within twenty miles of us we might escape. If not, our death seemed certain.

But Jack’s increasing debility, which was beginning to make me very anxious, made it out of the question to go farther to-night. Indeed, it was already getting on for sundown. So we took each, one of our three remaining lozenges, and made our camp as best we could. The trees near the watercourse were shadier than elsewhere, and the weather was mild. We had no tobacco. By some mischance we had left it behind us in our escape from the valley. Indeed, such was our excitement and anxiety that we had never smoked once all the time we were there. But now we missed our pipes very much.

Before going to sleep, however, I made a discovery that cheered us up a little. I found two more lozenges in the corner of my pocket. These would give us a shadow of breakfast.

I slept rather well, but Jack was troubled with restlessness and with dreams. And in the morning he was no better.

Things were looking very black indeed. After [260] making our shadow of breakfast we had but one lozenge left, and then nothing but a little water to live upon. Jack was beginning to show signs of collapse. “I know, old fellow,” he said, “that I could not persuade you to abandon me, but I’ll die very soon, and after I am dead you will still have time to look for the wire.”

“Jack,” said I, “look here, shall I go and look for the wire now? I’ll come back in two hours whether I find it or not, and then we shall stay together while we live. I daresay we have both of us pretty well done with this world, but while there’s life there’s hope. What do you say?”

“Well,” he said, “I think I can live for more than two hours with the help of this water; yes, old fellow, go and look for it; that’s the best chance.”

I made him as comfortable as I could near the water under the shade, and then I started with but little hope. I was already getting weak with hunger, although otherwise I was well enough. I crossed the plain eastward to one of the belts of timber I told you of. The distance was about a quarter or a third of a mile. Then I marked a tree, and on passing through the belt of timber, which was only a few yards across, I marked another. I was now in a second plain just like the first. I crossed it slowly to the eastward, [261] came to another belt of timber, and marked another tree.

Then I began to think it was of no use to make any further exertion. Half an hour was already gone; I must in any case turn back in half an hour more. “Oh Leäfar, Leäfar,” I said, and I wrung my hand, “how could you leave us in such misery?” And then I remembered how little Leäfar seemed to think of death in comparison with the doom I had escaped, and I was ashamed of myself, and I said—

“The will of God be done.”

I had crossed the second belt of timber, and I was marking another tree on the east side of it. I was acting quite mechanically and without conscious purpose, for I had made up my mind to return at once, and so I should not need another marked tree. All in a moment I became conscious of this, and I thought that perhaps my mind was going. Then I turned round to look at the plain which I had just entered, and was just about to leave, and, good heavens! there was the wire! This plain was of about the same dimensions as the other two, and right across it ran the telegraph poles.

I just said, “Thank God,” and I ran back as fast as my legs could carry me.

[262] Jack was taking a drink of water, and I thought looking a little brighter. I was quite out of breath, and before I could speak he had time to say—

“Why, Bob, you’ve hardly been away an hour.”

“I have found it!” I cried, “I have found it!”

“Take it easy, man,” he said; “take a drink of water. Didn’t I tell you we were near it?”

We took near two hours to reach it, for we were both weak for want of food, and Jack was ill. Then we sat down under one of the posts and consulted.

“Jack,” said I, “we may die of starvation yet, unless you can cut that wire. I couldn’t climb the pole, poor devil that I am, not to save your life and my own.”

(You will remember, no doubt, that I have already told you that Jack was a very clever athlete.)

He replied after a silence of a minute or so, letting his words drop slowly: “I should have thought but little of it yesterday morning. I am sure I don’t know if I can do it now. I’ll try.”

“I have one lozenge left,” I said; “take it before you try;” and I handed him the lozenge.

“I’ll take my share of it,” he answered, “but not yours too.”

“Now be reasonable, Jack,” said I; “my life as well [263] as yours depends on your cutting that wire. If the lozenge helps you to cut it, don’t you see that it is best for us both that you should have it.”

“Very well,” he replied; “I believe you are right; give it me,” and he ate it without more ado. And then after feeling for his knife he began to climb.

Presently it became clear that he could not get up the pole without some protection to his knees. I cut off the sleeves of my coat and we slipped them up over his legs; they fitted him so tightly that no fastening was needed.

Then he began to climb again with more success, but such was his weakness that it seemed several times as if he would have to give over the attempt. At last he reached the top, and after hanging for a while to rest he began to cut at the wire.

I watched the process with great anxiety. He gave over several times, and once I thought he was going to faint, and I ran up to the post to try and break his fall. But he began hacking at the wire again, and in a few seconds more it fell apart, and one end of it lay on the ground.

Then he began to slide down the post, and before he was down his arms relaxed their hold, and he almost fell into my arms as I stood underneath.

[264] We both fell to the ground, but without any severe shock, and we were quite unhurt. I staggered to my feet and dragged him to some thick shrubs near at hand, where I propped him up as well as I could manage. He did not quite lose his senses, and I whispered, “We are all right now, Jack; we shall have help soon.” Then I lay down beside him.

I do not think that I was more than half an hour lying there when I heard the noise of horses, and in about fifteen minutes more a party of horsemen rode up.

We might have lain there for several hours, however, if it had not been for a combination of favourable circumstances. We were only three miles from a telegraph station to the north, and a sharp look-out had been kept for us. It had been kept indeed since the third or fourth day after our departure, and it had been quickened a few days ago by a lying rumour which proved to be unintentionally true. Some blacks had come into the camp who knew both Gioro and Bomero, and they told Mr. Fetherston that Gioro had been killed some days before. Now, as far as I could make out, Gioro had been killed a day or two after they told the story. So they were certainly lying. But it seemed as if every one who knew anything about the matter expected that Gioro would be killed if Bomero’s protection [265] were withdrawn. And so it happened as you have heard, and thus their lie came true.

So there was a bright look-out kept for about fifty miles on each side of the Daly Waters, and a party had gone westward into the bush in search of us a few days before, and the moment the communication by wire was broken a party of horsemen started for the point where the break was made. We were now nearly thirty miles north of the Daly Waters.

We were speedily taken to the nearest station and treated with all the attention that we needed. I needed only food and clothes, but Jack proved to be sickening for colonial fever, and was in rather a critical state for some time. He did not seem to me to be dangerously ill. Much languor and a little wandering and extreme prostration were his principal symptoms. I was not very anxious about him, but Mr. Fetherston thought more of the illness than he chose to say. I did not know the nature of the complaint; I have learnt better since then.

Mr. Fetherston asked me several questions, and I told him all about the blacks, dwelling especially on Bomero’s panic and Gioro’s death. Then I said that after that we had got among some people that had given us food and clothes. He looked very carefully at the [266] coats and hats, and he said, “Why, these must have come from Java, or perhaps from the Philippines. I had no idea that there was any communication.”

I said that I was inclined to believe that the people I had met were not of the same race as the blacks, their colour was much lighter, I said, and they had some curious knowledge.

Mr. Fetherston looked at me with some anxiety and suspicion, and the same evening I heard him say to Tim Blundell that people who wandered among the blacks often got off their heads for a while.

After that I held my peace.

In about six weeks Jack was able to travel, and Mr. Fetherston gave us an escort to Port Darwin.

After about ten days there, we were so fortunate as to get a passage to King George’s Sound in a Government steamer. We reached Adelaide about the first week in September.