Up and Down Australia Again by Arthur W. Upfield

Author:Arthur W. Upfield [Upfield, Arthur W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925416787
Publisher: ETT Imprint
Published: 2017-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

They had been but a week on Hunter Island when he decided to quit, despite the fact that he was sorely puzzled by the problem of the course to sail. The uninhabited islands he already had visited lacked at least one essential to making his dream come true. To proceed southward along the west coast of Van Dieman's Land was merely to re-trace their sea-steps; to sail south and east along Tasmania's northern coast would bring them into the track of ships. There appeared but one solution of the problem - the reversal of the old saying about the devil known and unknown. The known contained no suitable island: the unknown might.

The fresh north wind blowing off the little beach gave to Jenks his sailing orders. To his companion, he said:

"We'll have to get away from here, Boyne, before the blacks take everything we've got - even our shirts and pants."

Boyne was scowling at the group of men, women and children, even then pawing the launch and staring at the gear.

"P'haps if we bashed one or two, they'd keep away," he suggested.

"We want to live at peace, not at war," snapped Jenks. "We've got to find an island with water and timber and game, and no inhabitants, black or white. Now's the time to get away from here, the wind being just right. This is what we'll do. We'll push off the craft so's only her bow is touching the beach. You keep her like that. I'll get some sugar in a basin and lure the blacks a bit up the beach. Then, when I'm handing out the sugar, you come along, too. We'll each grab a lass when I shout the word and run with her to the boat, toss her on board, and push off. Then you swing the craft round with the oar while I run up the mains'il. Before I've got the sail up to the truck it'll fill, and we'll be away before the blacks knows what's what. By that time they can't hope to catch us in their canoes."

Boyne's small eyes glittered. "I'm your man," he assented.

"Good! Now you stay aboard and don't come ashore till all is ready. And don't make a move to grab a wench till I shout the word go."

Obtaining a bowl, Jenks filled it with the treasured coarse brown sugar - watched by three dozen pairs of bright eyes - the while Boyne pushed the stem of the launch· seawards and then maintained its position by thrusting an oar-tip deep into the sandy bottom of the bay. Upon Jenks stepping ashore with the sugar-filled bowl, the blacks shouted with the joy of anticipation, and, surrounded by them, Jenks walked up the beach to the edge of the scrub.

There, with slow deliberation, he proceeded to dip from the bowl a spoonful of sugar into the eagerly outstretched hands. Boyne came craftily to watch his companion and a young girl who had taken his brutish fancy.

The arranged signal being given, both men snatched up a native girl and ran with them to the launch.

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