Louis Becke - Tom Wallis - A Tale of the South Seas

Towards sunset, Mr. Wallis, Jack, and Wellington came cantering down along the bank of the creek, and the genial, kind-hearted squatter, though the advent of the shipwrecked men meant the abandonment of his search for the rest of the cattle, and the loss of much valuable time, sprang from his horse, and shook hands warmly with the officer, as he congratulated him upon his safe arrival.

'You must camp here with us to-night,' he said, 'and perhaps to-morrow as well, or at least until such time as you and your men are sufficiently recovered to walk to Port Kooringa. In the morning, however, I shall send my black boy on in advance, and he will meet us with some more provisions. For the present we can manage-the creek is alive with fish, fresh beef is in plenty'-pointing to the grazing mob of cows and calves, – 'and you and your men, above all things, need rest. Now, tell me, do you smoke?'

'Smoke, mister?' and the man's voice shook; 'ef I get a smoke I'll just be in heaven. But I can't do it here, with those poor men a-looking at me. Every one of them is as good a man as me, although I did hev ter belt the life out of them sometimes.'

Mr. Wallis slipped his pipe, tobacco pouch, and a box of matches into the officer's hand. 'Go down to the creek and lie down there and smoke,' he said with a smile; 'I wish I had more tobacco for your men.'

As the mate crept away like a criminal, clutching the precious pipe and tobacco in his gaunt, sun-baked hand, Wellington cried out, and pointed towards Misty Head-

'Hallo! look over there! Big feller fire alonga Misty Head.'

Mr. Wallis turned and watched, and as he saw the lurid flames and huge volumes of smoke rise, and then sweep quickly down the incline of the head, toward the dark line of bush beyond, he could not repress a groan of vexation and anger, for he knew that, with such a strong breeze, the whole coast would be aflame in a few hours, and hundreds of miles of country on Kooringa Run be swept in its devastating course, and cause him to lose some thousands of pounds. Then in addition to this, and of more importance to his generous mind-for money itself held no sway on a nature such as his-was the fact that he and the shipwrecked seamen would have to make their way to Port Kooringa along the beach as the tide served, for they could not for some days traverse the burnt-out country at the back of the many headlands and capes, as the ground would be a furnace covered with ashes.

Towards midnight, Wellington, who was on watch, roused his master, and reported that the fire was rapidly travelling towards the Green Bluff, and would be upon them in an hour. This was serious, for there was no beach to which they could retreat on either side of the bluff for many miles, and the country on the opposite side of the little creek was, though free from scrub, clothed in long grass, which a single flying spark would set ablaze.

Awakening the officer, he explained the situation to him, and suggested a way of escaping from the danger which menaced them by taking to the boat, putting to sea, and making direct for Port Kooringa at once.

Tired as were the mate and his men, they at once acquiesced. The cattle and horses were driven across the creek, and left to take care of themselves, the boat's water-breaker filled, and the saddles and other gear were placed in the boat, only just in time, for already the heat of the flames was getting oppressive. There was but little surf at the mouth of the creek, and the instant the boat had passed through it, the ragged sail was set, and she slipped through the water.

'Don't go too close to Misty Head,' said Mr. Wallis to the officer; 'there is always a strong tide-rip there.'

The officer altered the boat's course.

Poor Tom, just as the daylight broke, saw her sail pass about a mile off. He stood up and shouted till he was hoarse; and then, when he realized that she was too far off for him to be heard, or even seen in such a position, sat down and wept, forgetting his bodily pain in his anguish of spirit.

But, as the sun rose, his thirst became overpowering, and rising to his feet with a prayer for strength upon his lips, he began to make his way along the foot of the rocks. His arm was less painful now, but three of his fingers were black, swollen, and useless, and the wound in his head every now and then made him faint. When half-way to the beach, he saw that the water was sufficiently shallow for him to wade ashore on the clear, sandy bottom, instead of toiling over the rocks, so getting down at a spot where it was not over his knees, he first immersed his whole body and then bathed his head and face. The stinging, smarting sensation caused him fresh pain, but he set his teeth and bore it manfully, knowing that the salt water would do the cut on his head more good than harm, even though it made it bleed afresh.

With renewed courage-for the cool water had revived him wonderfully-he waded along cheerfully, his thoughts now turning to his father and Jack, for whom he was not at all alarmed, knowing that both of them were too good bushmen to be caught by a bush fire, no matter how suddenly it had come upon them. If they were camped at Kooringa Cape, there was no danger for them at all, as a few miles this side of it there was a wide tidal river, and if they had been anywhere near the Rocky Waterholes when the fire started they would have sought safety on one of the small islands in the Big Swamp. Anyway he would be home to-morrow, or the next day, if he had to keep to the beach-and no doubt would meet some one coming to look for him; for unless Peter had met his father's party, the animal was bound to make for home, and be seen by some person. Then that boat! Of course it must have been the missing boat from the Bandolier-no other boat would be coming down the coast, surely! Oh, if he were only home to know! But a drink first before he decided what to do.

Stepping out of the water on to the hard dry sand, Tom ascended the bank, and then a cry of dismay escaped from him-the Rocky Waterholes were surrounded by a belt of blazing logs, and it was impossible for him to approach within a hundred yards, and the holes themselves were not to be seen!

Tom returned to the beach to consider. He must get a drink, and there was none to be had on the way back home, except from the thick vines in the scrub through which he had ridden the previous morning. But was there any scrub left? As far as he could see to the southward, the coast was still burning, and even if the scrub where the vines grew had escaped, he could not cut one, for he had lost his knife when he fell. Well, he must try and get along the beach and round the cliffs, further on, to the creek at the Green Bluff. There was always deep running water there; and now he began to think of nothing else-he must get a drink, or he could never attempt to walk all the way to Port Kooringa. Oh, if he could but get to the creek quickly! he thought, as, taking off his boots and socks, which were filled with coarse gritty sand, he tied them together with the laces, and set out along the hard beach. If it were only five miles of such easy walking as the first two, he would soon reach there; but the remaining three were the trouble-three miles of rocky shore, under a blazing sun, and with his head making him feel strange and faint.

Never once halting, the lad kept steadily on, trying hard not to lose courage, for every minute he felt his strength failing him, and a strange buzzing noise was in his ears, and the yellow sand seemed to dance and twist about and sink away from his feet. Oh for a drink, a drink! A long drink would set him right again, he kept repeating to himself; there was nothing really much the matter with him except his head.

At last he came to the end of the beach, put on his boots, and began to climb over the first point of rocks. This took him much longer than he anticipated, and he slipped and fell heavily once or twice. Then came a succession of small deep bays, the shores of which were covered with smooth loose pebbles, giving way to every step, and terribly exhausting to walk over. Then again another point-a flat reef of rocks running out some distance into the sea, dangerous, slippery, and covered with a greasy green weed, and awash at high water. Tom had never before walked along this part of the coast, and at any other time its wild loneliness would have pleased his Nature-loving imagination-now it appalled and terrified the poor boy, who, though he did not know it, was rapidly becoming physically exhausted from the injury to his head, which was more serious than he imagined.