Utterly at a loss to account for this strange occurrence, and fearing that some danger threatened us, Yamba and I covered in the front of the shelter, and then quietly retired into the bush, where we lay hidden without a fire until morning.When we returned to our shelter it was broad daylight, and, as we half expected, we found three formidable spears buried in the sides of our little hut.Three others were stuck in the ground near the fire, clearly proving that an attempt had been made upon our lives during the night.On examining the spears we found they most certainly belonged to the tribe we had left the previous day.The spear-heads were of a different kind of flint from anything I had previously seen, being dark green in colour; and they were extremely sharp.The individuality of the different tribes is strongly and decidedly marked in the make of their spears.Our treacherous hosts had evidently determined to obtain the coveted tomahawk by force, and when they reached the spot where they supposed we lay (they could not see into the interior from the front), they hurled their spears in the hope of killing us, but did not investigate the result, they being such arrant cowards at night.Remember, they had actually ventured at night into the bush in spite of their inveterate fear of "the spirits."The precaution adopted on this occasion was always followed by us when we had any real doubt about the natives; that is to say, we built a "dummy" gunyah of boughs, which we were supposed to sleep in; and we covered in the front so as our possible assailants could not easily detect our absence.We would then creep away into the bush or hide behind a tree, and, of course, would light no fire.
Many times was that same tomahawk coveted.You see, the natives would watch me cutting boughs with it, or procuring honey by cutting down branches with an ease that caused them to despise their own rude stone axes.
The case of treachery I have just described was not an isolated one, but I am bound to say such occurrences were rare in the interior--although more or less frequent about the western shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria.At any rate, this was my experience.
During our journey from my home to the shores of the Gulf, Iremember coming across a flat country from which the natives had apparently disappeared altogether.When we did come upon them, however, in the high ground I was probably guilty of some little breach of etiquette, such as LOOKING at the women--(for many reasons I always studied the various types in a tribe)--and Yamba and I were often in peril of our lives on this account.As a rule, however, safety lay in the fact that the natives are terribly afraid of darkness, and they believe the spirits of the dead roam abroad in the midnight hours.
Month after month we continued our progress in a southerly direction, although, as I have said before, we often turned north-east and even due west, following the valleys when stopped by the ranges--where, by the way, we usually found turkeys in great numbers.We had water-bags made out of the skins of kangaroos and wallabies, and would camp wherever possible close to a native well, where we knew food was to be found in plenty.
At this period I noticed that the more easterly I went, the more ranges I encountered; whilst the somewhat dreary and mostly waterless lowland lay to the west.We would sometimes fail to obtain water for a couple of days; but this remark does not apply to the mountainous regions.Often the wells were quite dry and food painfully scarce; this would be in a region of sand and spinifex.
When I beheld an oasis of palms and ti-trees I would make for it, knowing that if no water existed there, it could easily be got by digging.The physical conditions of the country would change suddenly, and my indefatigable wife was frequently at fault in her root-hunting expeditions.Fortunately, animal life was very seldom scarce.On the whole, we were extremely fortunate in the matter of water,--although the natives often told me that the low wastes of sand and spinifex were frequently so dry, that it was impossible even for them to cross.What astonished me greatly was that the line of demarcation between an utter desert and, say, a fine forest was almost as sharply marked as if it had been drawn with a rule.
A stretch of delightfully wooded country would follow the dreary wastes, and this in turn would give place to fairly high mountain ranges.
Once, during a temporary stay among one of the tribes, the chief showed me some very interesting caves among the low limestone ranges that were close by.It was altogether a very rugged country.Always on the look-out for something to interest and amuse me, and always filled with a strange, vague feeling that something MIGHT turn up unexpectedly which would enable me to return to civilisation, I at once determined to explore these caves; and here I had a very strange and thrilling adventure.
