Marooned on Australia

wound I came to the conclusion that the sword-blade had missed any vital part. I hoped he would live, as he would serve as a hostage, to some extent, in the event of any reverse befalling us.

When daylight broke we mustered our men, and found that at least a hundred males, besides women and children, had gone over to the enemy’s camp. This included all who were connected with the family Paul’s wife came from, either by blood or marriage, and Zolca and I were relieved to find that the disloyalty had not spread beyond.

But where had they gone to? In the retreat of last night, the sailors had not been accompanied by more than twenty men. We were soon to find out. Mustering about two hundred Quadrucos, Zolca and I marched to the beach, leaving the town in charge of Namoa, in case of a sudden attack from an unexpected quarter.

Berghen, we found, had provided against failure as well as success. Knowing how great were the odds against him, in case of any mishap happening he had stocked a camp on the southern headland with provisions, and all the time we had been prisoners, both men and women had been at work throwing up a rampart of earth around this camp, which, being on the headland, could only be approached across a narrow neck of land. All the boats had been secured, and were on an inner beach under cover of the garrison of the camp. Fresh water could be obtained by digging above high-water mark, and fish were plentiful. He was a clever general, was Master Berghen, but I saw him hanged for all that.

We held a council of war to discuss the situation and could only come to one conclusion: that we could not starve them out, and that to carry the place by assault would mean a great loss of men, whilst a repulse would be fatal. That they must be rooted out somehow we all agreed, for with the boats, they could cross the bay at night, land at any unguarded point, and harry us continually.

When we had finished, that is to say, when we had arrived at no conclusion, I strolled over to the forge and smelting place. Here I found a lot of stone broken up, which at once reminded me of the white stone in which I had seen the gold. Secretly, then, they had been obtaining the gold, whilst feigning to be smelting iron. I could not help feeling a good deal of contempt for myself, for being so easily hoodwinked. All the tools, and everything likely to be of any use, had been carried away.

Zolca now called to me that some one in the enemy’s camp was trying to attract our attention. On looking, I saw a man standing on the top of the earthwork, waving a white flag.

We marched towards the camp and halted out of bow-shot. I then advanced alone, and the man with the white flag, the meaning of which I had explained to Zolca, met me half-way.

“Well, Captain Diedrich,” said Berghen, “you have fairly turned the tables on me, thanks to that drowsy-headed knave, whom you thrust so cleverly under the arm-pit. I bear you no malice, for I love a fair fighter, but why should more blood be spilt? This country is surely large enough for us both to live in.”

To this I could only reply that it was not. That during the whole time they had been friendly guests of ours they had been plotting our destruction. How was it possible to trust them?

“I have a fair offer to make,” he went on, ignoring my accusation, which, of course, he could not answer. “You do not want or care for the gold. Let us build a vessel, we have ample timber left for it, and after getting as much gold as we can, let us go in peace.”

“To return with a crew of ruffians and cannon, and massacre us all!”

“We may return, I admit, but not with that purpose. Did I behave harshly or cruelly when I had it in my power?”

Truth to tell he had not, but he had harboured a purpose in so doing. Before he died Paul confessed to me the whole of the plot. Berghen intended to keep us prisoners for a few days, until, by kind treatment and large promises, he had persuaded more of the natives to join him and disarmed the remainder. His intention then was to repeat the massacre of the Batavia, and all of us, men, women, and children, would have been ruthlessly put to the sword.

Of course I knew nothing of this at the time, or I would have held no parley with the ruffian.

“And if I accept your terms will you give up Paul and all your weapons?”

“As for the arms, that is no matter, but as for giving up Paul, that is another question, for I suppose you mean to give him a short shrift!”

“He is the traitor who has brought all this trouble on us! But for him the Selwaert would have passed on without knowing of our existence.”

“At least he is not responsible for this last attempt, I planned this unaided, and it was only after strong persuasion, and a few threats, that he joined us.”

“Those are my terms,” I said, “and I will not depart from them.”

“We parted at this, and I returned to my party and told Zolca and Namoa—Berghen planted the white flag on the rampart as he climbed over.

What happened in the camp I learnt afterwards. Berghen assembled his men and informed them of the conditions. So far as the sailors were concerned they cared little for Paul, so long as their own necks were safe, and had he not overheard what was said there is no doubt that he would have been privately seized and handed over to us; but he did overhear it, and not liking the prospect he addressed the Indians in their own language, telling them what was proposed, and what his fate would be when King Zolca got him in his power. At once they rose, and Berghen and his men found themselves surrounded by an angry crowd with bows drawn and arrows pointed at them. This put a stop to the negotiations. Berghen had to give in, and mounting the rampart he pulled up the staff with the white flag, made us a mocking bow, and hostilities were resumed.

CHAPTER XIII.

A Night Attack—Appearance of The Bachelor’s Delight—The Pirate Flag—We evacuate the Valley.

THE hostilities were mostly on the side of the beleaguered party. They had erected double ramparts, and well sheltered behind them they defied us with impunity, for they could sweep us off the narrow neck with their volleys of arrows. At night they would cross in their boats and make sudden raids on the outlying parts of the town, forcing us to keep in arms all night. Berghen understood his business. This lasted for a week or more, the moon being against us all the time for a night attack.

At last, when we had about six hours of darkness, we determined to make an effort to oust them. Zolca led the first attack, I followed with a reserve to assist him. We crept up quietly enough, but Berghen was too cunning for us. He had men posted far in advance of the ramparts, lying down on the ground. These gave the alarm, and before we got anywhere near the rampart they were prepared for us. Zolca, however, dashed on with his men, and actually carried the outer rampart and killed a great number of the enemy, although our own loss was heavy. Between the two ramparts, however, the wily Berghen had dug ditches and holes into which our men stumbled and fell in the darkness.

Zolca was forced to retire, and we agreed to renew the attack at daylight at all hazards. No matter what our loss might be we must exterminate them.

The moon rose about the middle of the night, and soon afterwards one of the men on watch drew my attention to a light out at sea. My heart leaped! Could it be Hoogstraaten; if so the camp was at our mercy.

The light was stationary some distance from the shore, and as the fires in Berghen’s camp were still alight, they were no doubt waiting for daylight to land, attracted by them.

Daylight came tardily, and revealed a ship lying off the shore; but she certainly was not one of our ships, even I could tell that by her build. When it was quite light there was a movement of men on her decks, and one going aft ran up a flag at her peak. The lazy morning wind freshened for a moment and blew it out. It was black, with something in white in the centre. The black flag! What did I know about it? It was the flag Cornelis had talked of sailing under—it was the pirate flag of murder!

In an instant a shout burst from the enemy’s camp, the sailors there were cheering at the sight. Two descended to the beach, and taking one of the boats set off to the vessel.

I hastily explained to Zolca, and those within hearing, that we must retire; that these men in the ship would assist the others; that we must retreat as quickly as we could, for these new men would bring guns and cannons, against which we could not stand. I told Zolca to send half a dozen swift runners ahead to tell the women and men in the town to gather what they could conveniently carry, and make ready for instant departure, for I saw there was no alternative but to abandon the town, for we could not defend it.

Higher up the valley the river ran through a narrow gorge with mountains on either side. This could be easily defended, and at the back we had the range of mountains, from which the river headed, to retreat on. Above this gorge I determined to convey all the people until the ship left. We followed as fast as we could, leaving men posted to watch the pirates and bring us information of their movements.

We found the alarm had spread, and in a very short space of time we were on the march; but none too soon, for messenger after messenger began to arrive with tidings. First that boats were putting off from the ship filled with men. Then that they had landed. At last that they had formed into a band and were marching towards the town.

However, our people were now well on the way, and leaving them in charge of Namoa, Zolca and I, with about a hundred men, remained behind on the ridge commanding the valley, from whence we could safely harass the enemy should they start in pursuit; for we could easily evade them and inflict great damage on all who should attempt to attack us. For I began to entertain hopes that, by constantly annoying them from the fastness of the woods and mountains, I could soon induce them to leave.

The pirates came on slowly and cautiously, evidently expecting an attack. When they found the town deserted they seemingly suspected a trap, for they sent single men ahead to examine the country. We had left Wegelhoe behind, for evidently he was of no value as a hostage, and we had no mind to be bothered with carrying his huge carcass. It was unfortunate for him, because Berghen, as I afterwards learned, on being informed of his presence, went to him, and after abusing him roundly, stabbed the wounded man to the heart.

The pirates did not attempt pursuit when they found that the town was really deserted. We could see them distinctly from our places of concealment, and could distinguish their voices as they called to one another. They were no countrymen of ours, although there were men from many countries amongst them. We waited until nightfall, and then made our way up the valley to our people.

Namoa had selected a good place for a camp, and although we were now outcasts, unjustly driven from our homes, we were grateful that it was no worse, and that we had had time to get our wives and children away in safety, for I remembered to have heard awful tales of the bloodthirsty doings of these men who sailed under the black flag.

The next morning we went down to the gorge and found that we could defend it against any force the pirates were likely to bring against us; for we could safely inflict such loss upon them that they would not be likely to renew the attempt.

They did not try it, however. Finding that they had the town to themselves, they took possession of such houses as they wanted. Unseen by them, we kept watch on their doings. They brought their ship into the bay, and put her on the beach, and cleaned her thoroughly, she being, as I afterwards heard, leaky and very foul with barnacles. But they never gave us a chance to cut any of them off, for they marched to and fro in compact bodies, well armed.

Meantime they played havoc with our valley. What houses they did not occupy they wantonly destroyed. They cut down the cocoa-nut trees to get the fruit. Whatever would burn they burnt.

At the end of a fortnight the ship was again afloat, and anchored in the bay. Now commenced excursions to the gold-mine, and heaps of stone began to accumulate on the beach. The wretched Quadrucos who had sided with Paul had to do the carrying of these loads, and dearly they must have repented of their conduct.

At night we heard screams from the women, and one by one they began to straggle into the bush whenever opportunity offered, and we found them wounded, beaten, and dying. When the pirates discovered that they were deserting, they chained them together, and drove them, so chained, backwards and forwards to the mine. But our opportunity had now come, and we hovered around, and not a day passed but what we killed or wounded one of them.

One day we captured one of the crew. He was away from the others, and out of their sight, examining some stones, when Zolca crept behind him and felled him to the ground. While still senseless he was carried away and secured in the camp. When he came to himself we found that he could speak my language slightly, from having served on board one of our ships. He was an Englishman, and when he found that we did not intend to kill or torture him, he became communicative.

The vessel, he said, was English—that is, so far as an outlawed pirate could be said to belong to any nation. Her crew comprised men of all countries, but mostly Englishmen, as were the captain and officers. Her name was The Bachelor’s Delight, and she had come from the West Indies, round the Cape of Good Hope, there being many armed vessels in chase of her, on account of the piracies committed. The captain’s name was Sharpe, and he thought they would not stay much longer, as the gold they found did not answer the expectations held out by Berghen; moreover, they were losing too many men by our never-ceasing attacks, which they could not guard against. In consequence of this there was a coolness between Captain Sharpe and Berghen. He told us about the stabbing of Wegelhoe, and also that the three other sailors had been drunk and useless ever since they had tasted spirits, after such a long period of enforced sobriety: that there were no Hollanders amongst the crew, and therefore they were not made very welcome.

I lay awake all that night, thinking over this information, and by the morning had decided on a course of action.

The Englishman seemed a cheerful, easy-tempered sort of fellow, without much real harm in him, in spite of his presence on the pirate ship, so I made up my mind to trust him. First, I took him to the gorge, and showed him the impregnability of our position. He laughed, and said Captain Sharpe was not such a fool as to expose his men for nothing. What could he gain by attacking us? Pirates fought for booty, not for the love of fighting.

I recognized this reasoning as sound, and now detailed my plan to him. I had my rude writing materials with me, and with the assistance of this sailor, who, strange to say, could both read and write, I composed a letter in English, addressed to Captain Sharpe. I told him that if he delivered up to us the sailors he had found on shore, who had done us great injury, and also allowed the Indians to go free, we would desist from our attacks upon his men, and let him stay and go in peace.

This the Englishman promised to deliver to him without the knowledge of Berghen, and return with the answer. Although I did not think fit to put it in the letter, I gave the messenger to understand that if my request was not complied with I would redouble my attacks on them, even if we sacrificed two men for one. I had no doubt, however, but what my terms would be accepted, for I saw that these men had no honour amongst them, and would at any time sacrifice each other.

I sent an escort with the Englishman to within sight of the town, or rather the ruins of the town.

Zolca’s eyes glistened when I told him what I had done. His one burning desire now was vengeance on the men who had destroyed our peaceful life, and laid our homes in ruins.

Next morning the messenger returned. I had placed men to watch for him in case he was attacked by mistake. He brought a written answer from Captain Sharpe, which he read and translated to me.

It was a remarkable letter, and even now the remembrance of it makes me smile. It commenced with some high-flown compliments to myself, Captain Diedrich, and went on to say that he gladly entertained my proposals; that, so far as he was concerned, Captain Berghen and his men were of no interest to him whatever; that but for him he would have held friendly relations with us, cleaned his ship, and departed. As it was, he had lost several valuable members of his crew, and gained a very little gold, nothing like what was represented. He would release the Indians in a few days, meantime he would see that they were not ill-treated. With regard to the others: he would be leaving in about two weeks, and if I desisted from attacking his men, he would have them heavily ironed and left in the town. The letter ended with expressing a hope that he might meet me before his departure.

I noticed that Captain Sharpe passed over the destruction his men had caused to the valley; but then, it was scarcely to be expected that he would refer to it.

I sent back a message that I agreed with his terms, trusting to his honour as a gentleman and a sailor. Also that, if he would trust himself amongst us, the Englishman would guide him to our camp, and I would entertain him to the best of my poor ability. I had a great desire to see this man, who, according to the sailor’s account, was as brave as could be, and as firm as a rock, but yet could write letters of empty compliment to a presumed chief of savages, and prided himself on his gentle descent.

The fortnight went by peacefully enough; the captain kept his promise with regard to the Indians, and the poor remnant of them, including Paul’s wife, found their way to our camp. They were pardoned, for they had suffered enough, and once more taken back into the tribe. The Englishman arrived one day to say that Captain Sharpe would have much pleasure in accepting my invitation before sailing. I sent back a word of warning, that Paul, Berghen, and the rest, had better be secured at once, else they might get suspicious, and escape to the bush.

We then set ourselves to work to prepare a feast for the pirate captain. Although this part of the valley was not so fertile as the lower part, there were cocoa-nuts growing, and game was abundant. Dishes were prepared in the native manner, for the pleasure of our late enemy.

CHAPTER XIV.

I presented the captain and his lieutenant to Azolta and King Zolca, and I had to conceal my smiles as I translated, for their benefit, the flowery compliments of the captain. Our conversation was somewhat hampered, as the lieutenant had to translate to me, and I in turn to the others.

We then went amongst the people, and both men seemed much struck with their appearance, and the beauty of the women. Whilst so engaged, our meal was laid, and on our return we sat down to it, and our guests seemed to most heartily enjoy the strange dishes. After it was over, some of the girls entertained us with dances peculiar to the Quadrucos, of which the captain and lieutenant did not seem as though they could have enough.

When the time arrived for the departure of our guests, I had an escort of picked men to accompany them to the outskirts of the town, an attention which seemed greatly to please this singular man.

When we parted he said that his men would march out of the town at daylight, when we would be at liberty to enter it, and resume possession. That he would be busy preparing for sea all the morning, as he intended to leave by the afternoon’s tide, but if King Zolca and I would visit him on board at noon, he would be only too happy. Circumstances beyond our control prevented us from fulfilling this engagement.

In the morning Zolca and I, with an advanced guard, marched down the valley to once more take possession of our town. I could see tears in my comrade’s eyes as he saw the ruin that had been wrought. The men, too, gazed fiercely around, and I saw that Paul’s fate was sealed this time.

We went to look for the prisoners, and found them heavily manacled in one of the houses. Berghen addressed me with a reckless laugh.

“So you have won the game in the long run, Captain Diedrich! Well, it’s the fortune of war, and must be accepted.”

I could not find words to answer him. I could not revile a helpless prisoner, but the thought of our wrongs made my blood boil. I set trusty sentinels over them, and left without looking at Paul.

About the middle of the morning the women and children began to arrive, and those who still had houses left went to them and made ready to entertain their less fortunate countrymen.

Almost at the same time a messenger came in from the beach with the astounding intelligence that two more ships were outside the bay. We hastened to the rise, and then I noticed that the great Cross of Gonneville had been wantonly cast down. Although not superstitious I did not like to see this, and the natives raised a wail of lamentation.

Outside the bay lay two ships, flying the flag of Holland, and my heart warmed at the sight. On board the pirate ship the English flag was floating instead of the black one formerly displayed. There seemed a good deal of bustle on her decks, and I guessed she was preparing for a fight.

A boat from one of the ships now entered the bay and rowed to Captain Sharpe’s ship, and an officer went on board. He remained some short time and then, re-entering the boat, pulled for the beach, and I went down to meet him. What was my delight at recognizing Vanstrooken. We greeted each other warmly, and he inquired of the strange ship, being seemingly somewhat suspicious of her.

Now I had no mind to see Captain Sharpe taken and hanged as a pirate, for although doubtless he richly deserved it, still the man had behaved honourably to me, and I would not betray him. I therefore replied that she was an English ship, and they had been here some weeks repairing and cleaning the hull of their vessel.

He then asked if I had seen anything of the five mutineers, and I told him of how they had treacherously made us prisoners and taken possession of the town; but that, thanks to the English captain, we had them safe in irons in the town. This proved to be a most unfortunate speech of mine.

He immediately expressed a wish to see them, saying that Hoogstraaten was captain of one of the ships, and had put in here partly to see me and partly to look for them. I could only accompany him back to the town. As we went he gave me an account of their voyage to Batavia and the dangers they experienced.

When we opened the door of the house the culprits gave a start of dismay as they recognized the visitor. It was as though the executioner had looked in at them.

The officer gazed round at them in silence. Suddenly Berghen spoke.

“Herr Vanstrooken, I trust before you hang us that you will blow that cursed pirate out of the water. The wretch who betrayed us.”

“What does this mean?” said Vanstrooken, glancing at me somewhat sternly. “Herr Diedrich says she is an English ship.”

“English ship she may be,” replied Berghen; “but for all that she is the well-known pirate ship, The Bachelor’s Delight, commanded by the notorious Captain Sharpe.”

Vanstrooken gave me a glance of anger which I returned, for my conscience was easy; I had told the truth if not quite all the truth.

Vanstrooken hurried to the shore as fast as he could, and springing into his boat, bade the men give way smartly. As he passed the stern of the pirate he shouted something to which Captain Sharpe took off his hat and made an ironical bow. Immediately after, the English flag was hauled down and the black flag flaunted defiantly in its place. The delay he had gained had enabled him to get his ship clear and ready for action.

As soon as Vanstrooken’s boat got alongside, a cannon was fired from the ship, the ball dropping astern of the pirate. No notice was taken of it, the crew being busy getting the anchor up. She was then allowed to drift towards the entrance until the headland sheltered her from the fire of the ships.

Meantime boats full of armed men left the two ships and came swiftly in to board and capture their prey. They were received with a warm fire; but nothing daunted, they ranged alongside, and the crews commenced to scramble up the bulwarks. They were, however, vigorously repulsed, not one, I think, getting a footing on the deck. Again and again they attempted it, but without success, and at last had to draw off and return discomfited to their ships. There must have been heavy loss on both sides, for I saw the pirates throw many dead bodies overboard.

Evening was now drawing on, and a breeze had sprung up. The Bachelors Delight weighed anchor, and, favoured by wind and tide, swept boldly out in the face of her opponents. She had to endure a galling cannon fire as she threaded the channel; but her masts and spars were untouched, and once outside, she unhesitatingly made for her nearest adversary and delivered a broadside into her that must have done great damage. Shooting past she sheered up to the other one and gave her a like compliment; then, with every sail drawing, she went on her course, and the two other ships soon saw that pursuit was hopeless and presently beat back to the mouth of the bay.

Here, the tide being against them, they had to remain until the morning; but a boat was soon coming ashore from one of them. It was dusk when they reached the beach, but I recognized Hoogstraaten. He stepped on land, looking darkly at me, and would not see my proffered hand.

“You keep strange company since my last visit, Master Diedrich Buys!” he said.

“Truly so;” I answered, somewhat nettled. “You left us five well-ordered gentlemen as guests!”

“That is beside the matter,” he replied, somewhat haughtily. “Why did you not at once inform Herr Vanstrooken of the true character of that piratical craft?”

“Because the man had kept his word honourably with me, and handed over the men I wanted in irons. Moreover, I think it would have been much to the advantage of all of you if you had accepted my explanation and let him go in peace.”

He looked at me for a moment with a black frown, then suddenly laughed.

“Faith, friend, you are right, I believe! That same pirate carried too much metal for us.”

He held out both his hands, and our old friendship was at once restored.

“I will be your guest to-night, with your permission,” he said; “but I must send my boat back with a message.”

In a few minutes he was ready to go with me to the town, where we were received with great welcome by Zolca and Azolta.

We sat talking until late that night, for he had much to tell and much to listen to. The events of the years since we parted had been stirring with both of us. He had been back to Holland, had visited Harlem and seen my parents—having gone there on purpose to assure them of my innocence with regard to the Batavia mutiny. He brought me loving messages from them, and I felt I never could thank him enough for having done, of his own accord, the thing I most desired, namely, my justification to my family.

Next morning early the boats arrived from the ships, bringing off the captain of the other vessel and some of the superior officers. Vanstrooken, I was sorry to hear, had been badly wounded and was confined to his cabin. The ships had entered the bay at daylight and were now anchored where the pirate vessel had lain.

The proceedings were short. The four prisoners, for Paul, of course, was not included in this trial, were adjudged guilty of both mutiny and desertion, either of them punishable with death. They were straightway taken on board and hanged at the yard-arm in their irons. The bodies were then taken out to sea and thrown overboard. They all maintained a sullen silence to the last.

I tried to put off Paul’s trial and certain condemnation as long as possible, and in this matter Hoogstraaten unconsciously helped me.

The latter, I may mention, came of a wealthy family, and was a man of considerable private means. He told me that he and my father had joined in bringing me out a few presents, and invited Zolca and me on board to see them.

“I have brought you these,” he said, “in case you are again visited by the Malays or Mongols;” and he showed me two brass cannons and a stand of firearms. He told us that he had also a plentiful supply of powder and ball, and moreover, he would leave a sailor with us who was a good gunner, and who would superintend the mounting of the guns in the best position, and also give us instruction in the use of them. This man he would pick up again on his return.

On my asking him of his destination, he smiled slightly.

“To no less a place, Diedrich, than the Abrolhos of Frederic Houtman, where you first made acquaintance with the land of Terra Australis. I am going to try and recover two casks of rix-dollars which went to the bottom when your ship the Batavia broke up, and were not recovered by Francis Pelsart. I have on board two native divers from one of the islands of the straits and also one of Pelsart’s sailors.” I expressed a wish to see this sailor, and Hoogstraaten ordered the boatswain to send him forward.

What was my surprise to recognize the friendly sailor, who had whispered a word of hope to me at the last. He did not know me, however, and it was some time before he could believe that I was the youth he had helped to put ashore so many years ago. I asked him why he had whispered to me of the coming of ships, and he told me that he had overheard Pelsart say—in answer to one of the other officers, whose pity had been touched by our fate—“Rest easy. They will be rescued soon, ships are now under orders to examine this coast.”

Hoogstraaten now told me that he had a present for the Princess Azolta, which he must take ashore and give to her himself. It was large and flat, like a board, and the sailors handled it most carefully, the captain himself superintending its transportation. When we reached our house, the sailors behind carefully carrying the mysterious package, I noticed a sly smile on Hoogstraaten’s face, as he gravely bowed to Azolta, and requested me to tell her that he had brought her a small present from Europe. The sailors leaned the package against the wall and commenced to strip the coverings off. Hoogstraaten managed to edge Azolta in front of it, as the last covering fell, and she gave a little start and scream of surprise. It was an almost full-length mirror, and she suddenly, and for the first time in her life, saw the reflection of her figure.

The captain’s present was an unfailing source of amusement. Zolca had to stand before it and put himself in various fighting attitudes, much to his own admiration. Then his wife came in, and other girls, and the coquetry that went on before that glass was something to remember. Hoogstraaten lay back on a rug, and laughed till he was hoarse.

CHAPTER XV.

The Trial of my Comrade—He wounds Zolca—The Death of Paul—We destroy the Mongol Junk.

Namoa and five other men of standing were then selected, and Paul was warned that the next morning he would be tried for his life.

He asked permission to see me, and, of course, the request was granted. That evening I went to him. He told his wife to leave the house, and we were alone. I sat down by him, and, truth to tell, my heart was heavier than if I had had to face the executioner in the morning. I took my guilty comrade’s hand, and we sat for some time in silence.

“I am sorry that they did not capture Captain Sharpe,” he said at last.

To this there was no answer to be made, for I thought differently.

“Diedrich,” Paul went on, “I did not ask to see you to upbraid you, but you could have saved me if you would.”

“How?” I asked.

“When you made terms with Captain Sharpe you could have stipulated that he should take me away and give the others up.”

Now, this was another proof of how these men, who were ready to mutiny at any moment, were equally ready to sacrifice their friends to save themselves. Paul cared not a jot for the fate of Berghen and the others, so long as his escape had been provided for.

“Paul,” I replied, “when I made terms with Captain Sharpe we were fugitives hiding for our lives. Through your treachery we had to fly to the mountains, and watch our valley and town being destroyed. Is it likely that any thoughts of mercy would find room in my heart just then? Did you attempt to rescue me when Berghen had us confined and guarded?”

Here Paul broke down, and confessed the plot to murder us which I have already detailed.

“I deserve nothing but death, Diedrich,” he concluded, “but, at least, I can say that neither when you were surprised, nor during the attack on the camp, did I raise my hand against you or Zolca’s people.”

This I believed, for I knew well that Paul was brave enough, but yet I had seen nothing of him whilst the skirmishing was going on.

We sat long talking, but I had few words with which to comfort him. I knew his doom was sealed, and he accepted the fact.

I left him towards the middle of the night, and his wife went back to keep him company. He had hinted several times that I should assist him to escape to the bush, but I refused to listen. Not to save Paul’s life ten times over would I be guilty of such treachery to Zolca, my brother.

Paul was tried in a large open space in the centre of the town, all the inhabitants being present, grouped round in a circle. I had to preside, as none of the others knew anything about such a mode of procedure. Retribution amongst uncivilized races is short and sharp, without any pretence at trial.

Paul met his coming fate boldly enough. He did not evince any outward fear, although he must have known that death was hanging over his head.

Speaking in the Quadruco language, I appealed to Paul to confess his guilt, and prepare to meet his end; for, if I had had any doubt as to what his fate was to be, one look at Zolca’s face would have been sufficient to tell me. The fair valley, now a scene of desolation; the ruined houses; the wreck of what had been a flourishing and fruitful settlement, were there to witness against Paul.

In answer to my appeal Paul acknowledged his misdeeds, and owned that he could no longer be trusted.

I then made an appeal on his behalf, trying to explain, as well as I could in their language, that Paul had been led away by his desire to return to his own people, and that we should keep him a close prisoner until the return of Captain Hoogstraaten from the Abrolhos, who would take him away altogether.

My speech had no effect; I could see that in the faces of all present.

Zolca sprang to his feet and commenced a fiery oration, pointing to all the wreck and desolation around, which excited his audience to frenzy, and I wonder now that they did not rise and slaughter all of those of their own people who had gone over to the pirates. At the conclusion Zolca turned and asked me what to do. In reply I turned to those around, and asked them what punishment they decreed.

“Death!”

The whole crowd shouted the doom, but Paul never blenched, though the word seemed to ring and echo up the valley in a hundred reverberations.

There was silence for a moment.

“What death am I to die, Diedrich?” said Paul, without a tremor in his voice.

I turned to Zolca, and he answered:

“The same death as your friends. Hung up on a rope.”

“Never!” cried Paul, and leaping on Zolca he snatched the old cutlass from the king’s belt, and, before a hand could be raised, cut him down.

Too late, alas!—for the whole thing was instantaneous,—I caught Paul by the wrists, and even as I did so he was stabbed by every one of the infuriated Indians who could get near enough to do it. I relaxed my grasp and he fell dead, with a dozen fatal wounds in his body.

I next turned my attention to Zolca. The blow had been struck at his head, but in his mad haste Paul had only wounded him on the shoulder, at the base of the neck, and the blood was gushing from the wound. I made the Quadrucos, with the exception of one or two, draw back, and with the aid of strips torn from our dresses, managed at last to staunch the bleeding. A litter was soon made, and on it we carefully conveyed the senseless body to his house.

The dismay of Azolta and Zolca’s wife may be imagined, but the former retained her presence of mind, and took her place by her wounded brother. I was almost in despair myself, as I had no knowledge of surgery, and knew that the wound wanted skilful treatment which I could not apply to it, in fact might make matters worse.

In this extremity some one called from outside:

“Captain Diedrich!”

Going out I found the Dutch gunner left behind by Hoogstraaten, who had witnessed the trial from some distance. He asked me about the king, and I told him my trouble.

“That is the reason I came to you,” he said. “I have often assisted the surgeon, and when we had that scuffle with the pirate there were a good many cutlass wounds to be attended to. I have some material for dressing in my kit, and if you will allow me I will examine the king’s wound.”

I could have fallen down and worshipped the man. He went to the house that had been allotted to him, and presently returned with some bandages and a sponge.

When we re-entered the house Zolca had recovered from his faint, which had been caused by loss of blood. His first question was as to the fate of Paul, and he listened with satisfaction to the manner of his death.

The sailor now proceeded to examine the wound, and I told Zolca to lie still without speaking. Although the man’s hands were rough and hard, he seemed to understand what he was about. The blood had been soaking through the rough bandages I had applied, but after he had strapped it up in a more skilful manner this stopped, and I felt much relieved.

I then went out to see to the burial of Paul’s body, but the sailor told me that the Quadrucos had almost hacked it to pieces, and then taken it to the beach. Going down there I found a number assembled, watching the bay, and learned that they had taken the mangled corpse out and thrown it to the sharks. That was the end of Paul, after escaping death in a hundred shapes.

Now commenced a rather trying time. Zolca’s wound healed but slowly, and he himself pined at the inaction of a sick-bed.

Meanwhile there was plenty of work to be done. The gunner proved a blessing indeed, not only did he do the work Hoogstraaten had left him to do, but he attended to the others who had been wounded in the fight, and I ever found him a worthy, honest man.

The Quadrucos soon got their spirits back; the drill at the guns and the work of restoring their houses banished thought from them, and the place soon began to assume something of its old look before war had desolated it.

For me it was different; the sickness of Zolca, and the consequent depression of my wife, affected me greatly, added to which I could not forget the death of my old companion, Paul; for, no matter what his sins had been, we had been comrades together through years of wandering in a desert and unknown land, and I could not forget it.

The gunner had one gun planted on the headland which commanded the entrance, the other on an elevation from whence any ship, escaping the first battery, could be safely bombarded. I think he prayed that a junk might turn up, and, strange to say, his prayer was answered. He was a burly fellow of the name of Hessel, and I am sure that he thoroughly enjoyed his life amongst the Quadrucos, about fifty of whom he had drilled into good musketry-men.

A watch was kept on the headland, day and night, for the return of Hoogstraaten, and one night a light was seen to the northward. This, of course, could not be the discovery-ships, and when the news was brought to me I went and woke Hessel the gunner. He chuckled at the news.

“Wait until daylight, Herr Diedrich, and you will see how I will make the rogues skip!”

He betook himself and his picked men to the battery on the headland, and there awaited the coming of the enemy, and dawn.

Zolca, aroused from his uneasy sleep by the stir and bustle, sent over to me to know what it was about. I went to him and told him. Instantly he insisted on being taken to the beach, so that he might witness the engagement in which he could take no part.

It would have made him worse to deny him, so a litter was soon arranged and we carried him to the great Cross of De Gonneville, now once more erect. Hessel was so confident of his ability to beat off the junk, if it proved to be one, that he had not manned the other battery, therefore I was able to stay by Zolca.

It was a calm, balmy night, not a cloud to obscure the stars, not a sound save the wash of the wavelets on the beach. None could have thought at that hour of all the tragedies that beach had witnessed within the short space of a few years. I sat on the sand by the side of Zolca’s litter, and thought of all the trouble our coming seemed to have brought down on these simple, friendly people.

Zolca was not asleep, I felt his unwounded arm move, and he put his hand on my head, which was leaning against the side of the litter, as he might have done to a child. Some strange sympathy must have told him of what I was thinking, and he put his hand out as if to tell me I was not to blame.

Dawn broke at last, red in the tree-tops behind us, and the quick-growing light soon showed the look-outs on the headland that it was a junk in sight. It was a dead calm, however, and I guessed that Hessel was whistling for a wind to bring the enemy within range.

Soon after sunrise a light wind arose, and the junk, hoisting her great clumsy sail gradually approached the land. So light was the wind, and so slowly did it come, that it was nearly two hours before the junk was close to the entrance. Zolca’s excitement was intense and I confess I shared it. I had every faith in Hessel, and knew that he would choose the right moment to open fire, otherwise I would have been by his side.

At last it came, a flash of light, and a roar from the headland, followed by the sputtering volleys of musketry. The junk seemed to reel under it, and a yell and clamour arose from her that appeared to equal the report of the cannon. Hessel now fired again, and this time the clumsy vessel was almost pierced through; her masts fell, and it was evident she was sinking. The wind had freshened and the tide being on the flow, she drifted into the bay. Hessel held his fire for the reason, as he afterwards told me, of not sinking her in the channel.

The Mongols had made no resistance, they were too surprised, nor could they see their enemies. Deeper and deeper sank the doomed craft, and when well within the still waters of the bay she suddenly went down. Then commenced a ruthless massacre; the pirates swimming for their lives were shot, or if they reached the shore, stabbed. I could not have stopped it. The Quadrucos had tasted blood too often, lately, and all the savage in them was aroused.

CHAPTER XVI.

Hoogstraaten again—Zolca recovers—Visit to Wreck Bay—A Strange Discovery.

NEEDLESS to say, Gunner Hessel was delighted with his success, and undertook to teach the best of his natives the tricks of gunnery, so that no vessel could ever enter the bay. This was good boasting, but could be excused at such a time; moreover, stern Nature finally took it out of all our hands, so far as this matter was concerned.

Zolca had momentarily benefited by the excitement of watching the fight, but I prayed for the return of Hoogstraaten, who had a surgeon on board, for a reaction set in, and the king seemed to grow weaker again.

Meantime the many busy hands had almost restored the town, and, although it would take several years before the cocoa-nut trees grew to their former height and beauty, nearly all other signs of invasion had disappeared; so that when at last the welcome arrival of Hoogstraaten’s vessels was announced, he could hardly believe that we could have done so much in such a short time.

He was deeply grieved at the news of Zolca’s illness, and how it was caused, and said viciously to me:

“Now, if you had let me hang that fellow with the others this would never have happened!”

The surgeon, too, looked grave, and told me that the king would never recover the use of his left arm. Otherwise, he would probably soon get strong enough to go about.

Hoogstraaten was highly interested in the account of the discomfiture of the junk, and the able manner in which Hessel had handled his guns. He warmly praised him, and the burly fellow grinned all over his face with pleasure, for Hoogstraaten was a man both loved and feared by his crew. He was the man of that age and those seas, and I trust that his name as a navigator and discoverer will live for ever.

In return he told me that they had been successful in their search for the two casks of rix-dollars, and that he had been able to map out the coast more accurately than his predecessors had done.

Under the care of the surgeon, Zolca grew better, and was able to walk about with his useless arm in a sling. Hoogstraaten had delayed his departure as long as he possibly could, in order that Zolca might have the attendance of the surgeon. He now had to leave, and it was with the deepest regret I parted from him. Vanstrooken had recovered, and the little cloud between us had passed away.

Zolca, Azolta, and I stood on the beach after bidding Hoogstraaten farewell, and watched his boat speed swiftly to his ship. Once he stood up in the stern and waved his hat to us, then he went on board, the boat was hoisted up, and with a favouring wind the two discovery-ships threaded the entrance to the bay and so stood out to sea.

As they passed the headland Namoa and some of the trained men stationed there fired the gun, in compliment to Hessel. The ships dipped their flags and each fired a gun in reply; then they spread all canvas for the north, and that was the last my companions ever saw of the gallant and generous Captain Hoogstraaten. I saw him again, but under far different circumstances.

The next few months were busy ones. Zolca fretted over the uselessness of his arm; but his health was soon restored, and that made him more contented with his lot.

Things began to smile once more in the valley; the girls danced and sang as before in the calm, soft evenings, and wore flowers in their hair, and the old peaceful life seemed to have come back again.

As I had never been along the coast to the north I proposed to Zolca to take the largest boat we had, and with a few men sail up to the bay where I first saw Hoogstraaten, or “Wreck Bay” as we had named it. Zolca was tired of inactivity and gladly consented.

We started, taking some of our men with their firelocks, and a good supply of provisions. Azolta could not accompany us on account of the children.

Leaving the bay we found the shore to the north fringed with mangroves, so that we could not see dry land. Creeks and openings were common amongst these trees, and up some of them we went; but they led to nowhere, and we always had to return. Dismal-looking places these creeks were. Nothing could be seen on either hand but mud and ooze and the stems of these strange trees which grow in a distorted manner from many roots, and when the tide is low these roots are left bare.

Here I saw for the first time the crocodile, such as I had seen in pictures of Egypt. It was like a huge lizard, and it lay on a little patch of sand, basking in the sun. Neither Zolca nor the Indians had ever seen this gigantic reptile before, and they did not seem to like to approach it; for these creatures never came in to our bay, being, for aught I know, frightened of the sharks. I whispered to the men to fire at it, and with one accord they fired a volley at it. This roused the brute effectually, although it did not seem to be badly wounded, or scarcely more than tickled. It lashed out its tail and plunged into the water. When the men saw its great length and girth and enormous jaws, they made sure it was coming to attack the boat and, taking to the oars, pulled away with a will. I, too, thought it would have been better to have let the brute alone; but it did not come near us, and we saw no more of it.

However, we did not enter any more of these dismal creeks, and coming on to a nice open beach without any surf, we landed and rested for the night. About the middle of the following day we reached Wreck Bay.

All signs of the unfortunate Selwaert had disappeared; but the camp on the shore where the men had been working still remained. Here we camped for the night and slept soundly enough, all save Zolca who was always restless now. In the middle of the night he roused me up and drew my attention to a light on the other side of the bay.

“Papoos!” he whispered.

I did not think so, for I knew from my experience that the Papoos made many fires when they camped. Here there was but one. I persuaded Zolca to wait until daylight, for he proposed to steal round and fire a volley into the camp in the darkness. By my advice he agreed to wait until it was light enough to find out the cause of the fire.

When morning came we went round and found that the Papoos had been there and set fire to a dry log, which had been smouldering for some days; the wind during the night had freshened it into a flame. But this was not all, the Papoos had been there in large numbers and a fight had taken place. A fight and more than a fight; a feast as well—for these black Indians are cannibals and eat one another.

Zolca and the other Quadrucos looked at the remnants of human bodies in deep disgust, for the Quadrucos were very dainty eaters; they preferred the flesh of fish and fowls and, above all, the vegetables that they grew and the green cocoa-nuts. But these wretched Papoos were, I knew, often starving, although those that Paul and I lived amongst near the Abrolhos were not cannibals.

Suddenly Zolca started and drew my attention to a dried and shrivelled head, lying a short distance away. It was the head of a Mongol. One, perhaps two, of the pirates had escaped and made their way overland to this bay, where they had remained watching for another junk to come along, and meanwhile living on the fish with which the bay swarmed. Here, then, they had lingered until surprised and slaughtered by the Papoos.

“This is a bay of evil omen,” said Zolca; “let us go home.”

We were soon skirting the mangroves once more and speedily reached our own bay early the next morning.

The wet season was now approaching and by the following autumn, which in Terra Australis is exactly opposite to ours, being in April and May, we anticipated having our crops, of one sort or another, in good order again.

Zolca was growing more resigned to his lot, and Azolta recovered some of her wonted spirits, so that life promised to flow on in the same even tide as before.

CHAPTER XVII.

The great Catastrophe—Extinction of the Quadrucos—The Death of Zolca and of Azolta—I am left alone.

One morning the sun rose red in a haze which reminded me much of the morning Hoogstraaten and I watched the Selwaert dashed helplessly on to the bar of Wreck Bay. The wind from the north-west began to moan dismally about noon-tide. Then the rain-clouds commenced to scud across the sky, and as darkness fell the rain commenced. This was nothing, snug and secure in our well-built houses we heeded not the growing storm, and slept soundly through all its increasing fury. In the morning we found that a great gale was blowing, the river was running strong, and the sea was raging on the outside coast.

All day the turmoil increased, and towards dusk the bay itself began to feel the influence of the wind, and the rollers from the ocean swept in, and broke in surf upon the beach, smashing our boats, and hurling them on the sand.[B]

That night no one slept much, the river was overflowing its banks, and flooding our plantations, and, sheltered though we were in the valley, the tempestuous blasts that swept up from seaward, seemed to make the very earth tremble. Never before did man witness such a war of the elements.

Foot by foot, the river began to rise with great rapidity. The rain never ceased, but fell in continuous sheets. Now and again, a vivid flash of lightning, followed almost instantaneously by a deafening peal of thunder, illuminated the valley, and afforded a view of the terrifying scene. Still the river encroached on the level ground, and began to invade the houses.

Suddenly, a sound broke on my ear, coming from seaward, a roar, such as I had never heard before—a roar that seemed to unite in its voice, sea, storm, and flood! Some instinct told me what it was, and calling to the others, I shouted to them to make for the ridge. Azolta had one child, I had the other and had also to help poor, crippled Zolca. His wife followed us, and in the darkness, we plunged into the muddy flood, and made for the ridge.

I called to the rest of the Quadrucos, but they were watching the upper part of the river, and did not heed the great roar rushing up from the sea. Closer it came, and the water suddenly leapt up about us, and we had to swim amidst eddies and whirlpools. We were torn apart, and the child escaped from my grasp.

When I regained the surface I was swept against someone who was battling helplessly against the furious tide, and felt that it was Zolca. A flash of lightning showed me the ridge, close to us, and with my assistance Zolca reached it, and sank exhausted on the muddy slope, although the water still surged and swept around us.

Suddenly, I heard a cry! Yes! even through that din and confusion I heard it, although now it seems scarcely believable.

“Deedreek! Deedreek! Save me!”

I left Zolca, and splashed through the water in the direction I had heard the cry. Another kindly flash and glare, and cannonade of thunder, showed me Azolta clinging to the stem of a tree. I plunged in, and brought her to the land, and then literally felt my way back to where I had left Zolca, and found him. He managed to get up and scramble to higher ground, and in a short time, we three, the sole survivors of the overwhelming calamity that had befallen us, met together.

As yet, in the darkness, we did not know the worst, but we knew, at least, that the worst had befallen ourselves. Our children and Zolca’s wife must have perished, and of the Quadruco people I dared not think. A gleam of lightning showed me an overhanging rock which I knew, and under its shelter I managed to get my two companions saved somewhat from the pitiless rain and wind.

Zolca and Azolta sank down exhausted, and I could only sit with my back against the rock and think. I knew what had happened. The long-continued gale had backed the tide up in the gorge I have before mentioned as terminating the end of the valley. This blocked the outflow of the flood-waters of the river, and they, of course, commenced to overflow the valley. Then, hurried on by the fierce blast from the north-west, an immense tidal wave had swept into the bay, rushed up the gorge, beating back the flood-waters, hurling them on to the doomed valley, and burying everything under fathoms of salt water and mud-laden flood.

The fitful gleams of vivid lightning showed me the surface of a storm-swept sea where once was our valley.

In abject misery the weary night passed over, and when the lagging dawn at last asserted itself, I could see nothing but an estuary of tossing, yellow water, still pelted by the terrible rainfall.

Zolca was still alive, and when the light was strong he looked imploringly at me. I raised him in my arms, and he saw the water on the slopes of the valley, covering everything belonging to him and his people. He gave one cry when he realized all the disaster, and, sinking back in my arms, his great heart broken, died without a shudder.

Roused by the death-wail of her twin-brother, Azolta rose from her sleep of exhaustion. One glance at Zolca’s face and glazed eyes showed her the truth. She threw herself on his body, and begged and prayed him to return to her. I tried to loosen her arms from the corpse, but could not do so without using force, and I had to stay there and listen to her moans without being able to help her.

The gale had blown itself out by mid-day, and the rain ceased for a while.

Azolta feebly called to me, and when I stooped over her I saw that I should soon be truly alone. She put her arms around my neck, and as I pressed my lips to hers, her soul went out to join Zolca’s in the great Silent Country.

How long I remained stupefied with grief I know not. I was roused by the noise of rushing water, and saw that the flood was now falling rapidly. I looked languidly on; I felt no interest in it. I only wanted to die, and be with my people again. I was weak and exhausted, without enough energy to take my own life; so I sat on in stupid semi-consciousness through the gloomy evening and the gloomier night, until at last the morning broke, bright, sunny, and beautiful—a morning that mocked the desolation it revealed.

Strange to say, Zolca had still the old cutlass in his belt, and taking this I went a little way up the ridge, and commenced the weary task of digging two graves. I need not recount my labour. I dug them side by side, east and west, and when I had placed my dear ones in their last home, I covered them in, and heaped stones above them, forming two mounds. Some of the rocks I carried from a distance, as there were none sufficiently large in the neighbourhood to secure my dead from being disturbed by the Papoos.

When I had finished my grievous labour I went to look at the valley. The river had returned to the confinement of its banks, but the whole of the town had as completely disappeared as if it had never existed. The mud houses, soaked through by being under water so long, had melted away with the backward rush of the flood, and the mighty torrent had carried everything out to sea, save what it had left buried under two feet of mud. Mud covered everything in the valley, and I did not descend into it.

I was faint from hunger, and remembered that at the cannon mounted on the elevation commanding the bay, and at the one on the headland, provisions had been safely stored in case of a surprise. There I turned my steps, and found that the one on the elevation had escaped the fury of the flood, but the great wave had swept over the headland and destroyed our little battery. It mattered not—there was nothing now to defend.

I found an ample supply of provisions of one sort or another—smoked fish, and cocoa-nuts, and other things,—and some of these I conveyed to the overhanging rock where my wife and brother died.

I determined to rest here for a while, until I had recovered from the shock. I used to visit the graves daily, and occupy myself with adding stones to the mounds, and making them square and level.

The idea of suicide had deserted me, and a kind of apathy had set in. Perhaps Hoogstraaten might revisit the coast, and take me away.

I never went into the valley, even when the sun had hardened the mud. I got the little food I wanted from the store at the cannon, and my companions were the two graves, where I used to sit and talk to the dead for many hours during the day.

One day, when sitting thus, it suddenly occurred to me that I was the only European in this great mysterious land of the south, of which even such a bold and experienced navigator as Hoogstraaten knew not the limits. With the thought a great horror of loneliness came upon me, and I shrieked aloud, calling on God to kill me at once and end my sufferings. Then I knelt by Azolta’s grave, and whispered to her to come out and keep me company in this awful solitude; and then—I knew no more!