pari I.
OUT thirty miles from Horsham is the Spring Hill Station; and back from the homestead, in a small, open spot among the mallee, stood in 1864 a shepherd"s hut, built of slabs, with a clay floor and a bark roof-the home of the Duffs. The dreary view was broken only by the summit of Mount Arapiles and the Mitre Rock, some miles to the eastward.
Three children-Isaac, nine years old; Jane, seven and a half; and Frank, a toddler, not four-helped their mother, and filled in the long day as best they could, playing about the hut, for there was no school for them to attend.
Well, one day their mother called them and said, "Now, children, run away to the scrub and get me some broom to sweep the floor and make it nice for father when he comes home."It was a fine day in August-spring was early that year-and the children, who had been to the scrub onthe same errand before, liked going; so they set off merrily.
They had a fine time. Isaac amused himself by climbing trees and cutting down saplings with his tomahawk; he found a possum in a hollow in the trunk of a tree, and poked at the little creature with a stick, but without doing it much harm. Jane chased butterflies, picked flowers, and tried to catch the lizards that Frank wanted so much. When they felt hungry they all had, in addition to their lunch of bread and treacle, quite a feast of gum from a clump of wattle-trees.
In laughter and play the time passed pleasantly and quickly; and, when half a dozen kangaroos bounded away from them through the bush, their delight knew no bounds. But, by and by, Jane thought of going home; so they gathered each a bundle of broom for mother, and turned, as they thought, homewards.
After they had walked some distance, Isaac began to think that it was farther to the edge of the scrub than he had expected, so he urged his sister and little brother to go faster. In an hour or two the scrub grew thicker, and it looked strange to him. He thought that he might have taken a wrong turn, and started off in another direction, and then tried another, and another; but no rememberedspot met his straining eyes.
Then deep dread seized them all. They stopped, and cooeed, and shouted- "Father!" "Mother !" but there was no answer-only the sad "caw! caw!" of a crow winging its homeward flight came to their ears.
Drawn by Tom V. Carter
"They stopped and cooeed, and shouted."
On they pressed once more. Soon little Frank began to cry; and his sister said, "Don"t cry, Frankie dear; don"t cry. We"ll soon be home, and you shall have a nice supper. Let me carry your broom, it"s too heavy for you." She took the bundle of tea-tree twigs; and for ward again they went with wildly beating hearts, sometimes stopping to cooee and look about; and then on, on till the sun set, and the bush, except for the dismal howl now and then of a dingo in the distance, grew gloomyand still.
Tired out and hungry, they huddled together at the foot of a big tree, and said the prayers their mother had taught them. Then they talked of home, wondering if father would be vexed, and if mother knew that they were lost. Frank soon cried himself to sleep; and his sister put some of the broom under his head for a pillow. Poor, dear little things! They little thought how glad mother would be to see them, even without their broom.
As the night went on it grew cold; and Jane, who was awake, took off her frock to wrap round her little brother, and crept close to him to keep him warm. For hours she lay listening to the cry of the curlew and the rush of the possum as it ran from tree to tree over the dead leaves and bark. At last she fell asleep, and slepttill the loud, mocking "Ha, ha! ho, ho! hoo, hoo!" of the laughing-jackass roused her at dawn. What a waking it was! Tired and cold, hungry and thirsty, and lost.
part II.
The mother had grown anxious as the day wore on and the children did not return; and so, late in the afternoon, she went into the scrub and cooeed for them till she was hoarse. As she got no answer, she became really alarmed, and at length hurried back to tell her husband, who she expected would return home from his work just before nightfall. He also searched through the scrub, and cooeed till long after dark, but in vain.
Before daybreak next morning they were up, and as soon as it was light enough were hurrying to tell their nearest neighbours what had happened and ask their help in the search. Before dinner-time a score of willing people-men and women-were scouring the scrub in various directions.
All that day, and the next, and the next, they searched, but found nothing; and the poor mother began to lose hope of ever seeing her darlings again. A messenger had been sent to a station some distance off to bring two or three blackfellows, who were employedthere as boundary-riders.
The Australian blacks can find and follow a trail with wonderful skill. They have sharp eyes, and their training in searching for the tracks of the game they hunt causes them to note signs to guide them in places where a white man, even with good eyesight, sees nothing.
The children had been lost on Saturday; and the black trackers-a monarch, King Richard (better known as Dicky), and two subjects, Jerry and Fred- arrived on Wednesday. The three, taking positions some distance apart, began to look about for the trail of small footsteps. They had worked for some hours when a yell from Dicky brought them to his side. "What is it?" asked the father. "There! there!" exclaimed the black, with a broad smile, pointing to a faint mark of a little boot.
Forward now they went, with the father and some of his neighbours. Sometimes the blacks ran; sometimes they walked; and sometimes they had even to crawl. In rocky places they had to search carefully for traces, working from one point to another. Whenever this happened, it was a trying time for the poor father, as he felt that every minute"s delay lessened the small chance there was of finding his children alive.
The blacks led on so many miles into the bush thatthe white men began to think their tracking was all a sham. At last, however, they stopped at the foot of a big gum-tree; and, pointing to three bundles of broom, Dicky said, "Him been sleep there, fus night."The father was astonished to find that the children had travelled so far in a day, and much troubled at the thought of the long distance they might yet be from him; but he was comforted, too, for he felt that he could trust his guides.
There was no time to stop; but onward the party pressed still faster, till night came and put an end to their efforts for some hours, in spite of their wishes. How the father must have suffered through those hours, and how eagerly he must have watched for the first streaks of the coming dawn !
We can fancy how anxious the poor mother was, also, as day by day passed without any news of the finding of her children. Her fears slowly grew into the belief that they were dead; and her only hope was that their bodies would not be torn to pieces by dingoes or eaten by ants.
As Dicky was leading next day at a trot, he was seen to halt and begin looking around him. An anxious "What is the matter?" from the father caused only a sad shake of the head from Dicky; and two fingers held up showedtoo well what was in his mind. Making a sign to his mates to look about for the dead body, he cast himself on his hands and knees, to study the ground. A cry from him soon brought the party together. "Here three," he said, "here two. Big one carry little one"; and he went through the motions of one child taking another on its back.
When the next sleeping-place of the little wanderers was found, the blacks pointed out that the smallest had lain in the middle. "Him not get cold," they said.
Their third day"s tramp had not been so long as the others had been; and the blacks said again and again, "Him plenty tired; not go much longer." The little tired feet could not get over the ground so quickly now.
Another camping-place was reached, and "Here yesterday!" exclaimed Dicky. On that fourth day"s journey, the children had been passing through a patch of broom like that near their home; and the blacks, pointing to some broken twigs, showed that some branches had been broken off. Had they been gathered for a bed? No, there was no sign of that. Dicky turned to the father, and said, "Him t"ink it him near home." Yes; the children had supposed that they knew where they were when they reached that spot, and their first thought was of mother"s broom. They were weary and starving; but they had beensent for the broom, and they would not go home without it.
"Him run now," said the blacks; "him t"ink it all right"; and they pointed to the signs of haste. But, alas, what a blow to their hopes! By and by a bundle of broom was found. It had been thrown away-a sure sign of despair. "Him been lose him. Him been sit down. Mine t"ink it him plenty cry." Thus ran Dicky"s history of the event.
Another camping-place was passed; and the blacks became doubly earnest, and kept saying, "Him walk slow, slow, slow." Soon Dicky whispered, "Him close up." And then he stopped, and pointed before him in silence at something stretched on the ground.
"They must be dead," groaned the father, and rushed forward with drawn face and straining eyes. Though all were living, only one was able to greet him, and that was little Frank, who raised himself slightly, held out his feeble arms, and cried in a weak, husky voice, "Daddy, daddy, we cooeed for you, but you didn"t come." Jane had wrapped her frock round her little brother whenever they lay down to rest; and she and Isaac had carried him for miles, so that he had not suffered so much as they had. All alive, but very near death! Think of it: eight daysand eight nights in the bush without food to eat or water to drink!
When they were found, the blacks laughed and cried, and rolled on the ground for joy; and Dicky(we may well call him King Richard now), springing on a horse that belonged to one of the party, gave his last order, "Me tak gal home"; and Jane was handed up to him.
For some weeks the children were between life and death, but kind attention and loving care brought them back to health. The story of their suffering and heroism spread far and wide. Jane"s motherly attention to her little brother has won for her a place among the world"s noble girls.
About the Author.-The main part of the story is taken from an account written by the Reverend B. W. Fairclough, and printed in achurch magazine The Southern Cross. Some local details have been added by Mr. Beaumont T. Pearse, who was once a teacher in the Horsham school.
About the Story.-Where did the happenings told of in the story take place? Find the place on the map of Victoria. How did the children amuse themselves in the scrub? What frightened them the first night? What preparations did the searchers make? Why can blacks track better than white men? What signs were found? How long was it till the children were discovered? What do you think of Jane"s conduct? Why? Do you know any other stories about brave girls?
