‘Now if we could make ourselves a boat, we could float our way to the sea,’ suggested Barrie.
Bell disagreed. ‘Four scarecrows in a boat in the middle of a river. Now wouldn’t that make it easy for us to be spotted? We need to stick to the forest.’
‘We’d need to find a boat,’ I agreed with Barrie. ‘I’ve seen the ones the natives make from bark. They just cut away a whole side of a tree. But then we’d need twine and a needle to sew up the ends for the bow and the stern.’
‘Boat sounds good to me,’ said Richard.
I said, ‘If we had a boat, we could travel along the river at night, and rest during the day. That way they’d be less likely to spot us.’
Bell and Barrie ignored our comments. We were clearly irritating them with our ideas. Then Barrie muttered, ‘Mr Bell can’t swim. Anyway, boats make me nervous.’
‘But it was your idea in the first place.’ I thought it but I didn’t say it. I walked off shaking my head. Sooner or later we would have to cross the rivers that lay between us and our journey east.
Once we reached the ridge we had a clear view over the plain we had left behind and the territory that stretched out in front of us. We were still close enough to Green Hills to be able to see smoke rising from settlement fires. But if we made good progress today, we could be confident of escaping the clutches of any search party from Charlotte Farm.
Although the sun was out, a sharp wind pierced our damp clothing. ‘Let’s get down from the top of this hill, and get out of the wind,’ said Barrie.
We argued about this. It was easier going on the ridge, with less vegetation to snag our feet. And we could see where we were going. But Barrie was insistent. I was alarmed to notice Bell beginning to walk with a limp. His wound was slowing him down.
Away from the wind the sun warmed our bodies and we began to feel more cheerful. At noon we stopped to rest and eat on a rocky outcrop. We spread our blankets on the rock to dry them and sat looking over the lush forest below. Tall evergreens swayed in the breeze. Sandstone rocks gleamed in the bright sunshine along the dizzying drop to the valley bottom. Among the curves of the land we could see patches of the bright blue river below, and hear the screeching of river fowl. A haze lay over the forest like a light smoke, floating among the tree tops.
‘This is a beautiful country,’ I said to Richard. ‘I wish we were here as explorers rather than fugitives.’
‘I wish we knew how to find food like the natives,’ said Richard wistfully.
We ate our bread and cheese, and shared an apple. There was a little left for supper. After that we would have to find our food out in the forest. So far we had seen nothing we could safely eat, nor come across any animal we could spear or shoot.
We followed the ridge down. A cluster of rock formed around the dark hole of a cave. In the dim light around the entrance I could see a wall of handprints. Barrie followed me in. ‘D’you know how they do that?’ he said. ‘Fill their mouth full of paint and blow around their hand. I seen ’em do it.
‘I suppose this means there’s scores of the buggers round here, then,’ he continued. ‘Let’s hope this pistol scares them off if they ever decide they want us for dinner.’
The afternoon was heavy going, up and down hill, and more exhausting than the previous day’s walking. But the sun felt hot on our faces and the wind blew warm. We stopped at the bottom of the valley, close to the river. We were all thirsty now, and needed to drink. Barrie had cheered up, pleased by the day’s progress. But Bell had barely spoken a word, and he was making an effort to be pleasant. It was not hard to see why. He was worried his ankle would slow him down and had realised he needed all the help and sympathy he could get. ‘Too late for that,’ snapped Richard, when we talked as we gathered firewood.
That evening we ate our final rations – a sliver of dried pork, a carrot and a pear. From the next day we would have to find our own food. Nothing, so far, had reassured me that we would be able to. As I shuffled restlessly beneath my blanket, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, I began to fret over the folly of escaping with these two villains. But what else could we have done? They knew someone who would help us escape. We didn’t. I was certain Tuck would have worked us to death, or flogged the life out of us. Staying behind was no choice at all.
I began to think of other escapes I had heard about back in Sydney, and counted my blessings. At least we hadn’t tried to flee to Ireland heading south, assuming that as Ireland was colder than New South Wales, it must be in the same direction the cold wind came from. And we hadn’t used a compass drawn on a piece of paper to guide us. Both these stories were doing the rounds when I arrived in the colony. At first I didn’t believe them, thinking nobody could be so stupid. I mentioned this to Doctor Dan one night. ‘I’ve met some of the men who tried to do this,’ he told me. ‘They’re not stupid. They’re just simple country people.’
As I drifted off to sleep, I was tormented by the bad luck that had landed Richard and me in this awful situation. If only I had laid there in the dust, and let that despicable John Gray laugh at me, instead of launching myself at him. Wouldn’t life have turned out differently then?
We walked east the next morning. We had no breakfast so instead we drank as much as we could from the river. We stuck to the river bank too, but this was a mistake. Here the vegetation was thicker and there were many inlets and coves to navigate. To traverse them we had much climbing up and down steep sandstone rocks, and by mid-morning I was exhausted. My toes throbbed, my heart beat hard in my chest, and I was soon drenched with sweat. As we staggered along, the four of us grew more separate. Barrie leading, Richard following, me next and Bell straggling behind. We headed up the valley and the day dragged on. I was too exhausted to feel hungry. Just one step in front of another. I gave myself little goals. Get to the rock by the far tree, and then you can have a rest. Get to the bush by the sandstone outcrop, then you can stop.
I kept thinking of Oliver Pritchard. His words at our trial came back to taunt me. ‘The boys had clearly lost their nerve … They clung on to each other like two frightened children … I thought then and there to shoot them …’ The hatred I felt for him drove me on. He was not going to beat me. I was determined to survive.
Soon after midday I realised I had lost the others. I sat down to get my breath, and when my chest stopped aching I shouted at the top of my voice:
‘RICHARD!’
The word echoed around the still forest.
RICHARD!
Richard!
Richard!
I climbed the side of the valley, hoping to catch sight of the others. In my exhausted state the forest began to take on a peculiar aspect. Trees looked as if they were made of stone. White rocks, cracked into small cauliflower-like ridges, resembled the human brains I had seen in battle. The silence of the forest seemed deeper than ever, broken only by my own laboured breathing.
Chapter 14
Friends Reunited
As I edged up the smooth sandstone rock I was afraid of falling. I could break my ankle or leg, or crack my head and knock myself unconscious, and be lost here for ever. I sat down and fought back my tears. Then I became angry. Come on Sam, act like a man. I forced my aching legs on, staggering through the green tendrils that grasped my feet.
The sun reached its highest point, and despite the cool wind, it felt uncomfortably hot. My tongue was thick in my mouth, which was as dry and foul-tasting as baked mud. I stopped for a few minutes to rest, and my stomach began to rumble. When I felt the strength returning to my legs I blundered off again. A while later, I found a stream and drank until I could drink no more.
By mid-afternoon the shadows were growing longer and my fear returned. If I didn’t find the others soon, I would have to spend the night alone. Barrie had our only sparking kit and without that I couldn’t make a fire.
The moon rose in a clear blue sky and the air grew colder. I looked around the forest, wondering how I could make myself warm enough
to sleep. A rocky outcrop had a small opening that was almost a cave. It was damp, but it offered some shelter. I dragged in a collection of branches and laid them down on the ground to make a barrier between myself and the cold stone. Wrapped in my blanket I tried to rest, but sleep would not come. I turned this way and that, trying to find a comfy position for my weary body. After several hours the rocks seemed to be closing in around me, so I stood up to look at the night sky.
I climbed up the rock above the cave and looked down the valley. There, miracle of miracles, some way below, I could see the glow of a fire. It must be Richard, Barrie and Bell. I gathered up my blanket and ran as fast as I could towards them. But what if it wasn’t them? It could be natives. It could be soldiers.
I fought my way through the forest, often losing direction and having to climb higher to see if I could still find the fire. I knew I was nearly there when the smell of roast meat reached my nostrils. My stomach lurched and began to gurgle loudly. I hoped it was them, and I hoped there was still some food left to eat.
Now I could see the fire ahead of me and silhouettes of people around it. It was them all right. As I approached my foot snapped a branch and Barrie grabbed his pistol and fired into the darkness. The shot hit a tree trunk above my head, showering me with splinters.
‘It’s me, you idiot,’ I shouted.
Richard cried out, ‘Sam!’ I could hear the relief in his voice. He ran up and hugged me. ‘We thought we’d lost you. Come and have some duck.’ He handed me a leg of roast meat. As I crunched into the fatty blackened skin, juice ran down the side of my mouth. It was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.
‘I called for you all afternoon, Sam,’ said Richard. ‘I heard you shouting once or twice, but I could never make out where your voice was coming from. I’m amazed you didn’t hear me.’
As I ate I realised neither Barrie nor Bell had said anything. ‘Well good evening to you too,’ I said with some irritation. ‘Who else did you think it could be, out here in the middle of nowhere?’
Barrie leered at me through the flickering light of the fire. ‘Thought we’d lost you for good, Samuel. Mr Bell and me were looking forward to your portion of duck. But young Buckley ’ere’s been guarding it jealously. If you’d come ten minutes later, you’d have been too late.’
Richard spoke up. ‘Caught the thing late this afternoon. Whole party of them came into land on the river and sailed right up to us. Mr Barrie waded in but they all started to peck him. I leapt in and grabbed one by the neck while it was distracted. You make fine duck bait, Mr Barrie!’
Barrie gave a sardonic little smile. Bell tried to be friendly. No doubt he was still worried that his injured ankle would be holding us up. ‘I called out for you too, Sam,’ he said. ‘But we heard nothing back.’ Richard looked at him is disbelief. ‘I’ll bet you did,’ I thought.
In the morning light I noticed how filthy we were. Our clothes and shoes in tatters, our bodies caked in dirt. As we set off, hunger returned. ‘Sooner we reach the coast, the better,’ said Richard. ‘Then we can have clams and oysters for breakfast, and a nice fat fish for tea.’
That morning the wind picked up, and clouds began to form in the blue sky. Soon a gale was howling through the trees, and we had to hang our blankets around our shoulders as we walked. Bell was limping badly, and I could tell his injured ankle was causing him pain. When we stopped for a rest he lifted his trouser leg to look at it. The yellow and green bruising around the wound had spread and the gash made by the shackle was livid and weeping.
It began to rain soon after noon. Great sheets hammered down, soaking us and our blankets. The rest of the day brought only misery. Progress was slow and we argued bitterly about whether or not to take shelter. Barrie was finally persuaded that it would be better to conserve our dwindling strength than press on until dark. We found another cave and tried to light a fire. But everything in the forest was now so wet it would not catch alight. It was a wretched, miserable night. Sleep was impossible and the morning brought only more rain. One look at the sky told us it was set to stay like this for the day.
We walked on, chilled to the marrow, too miserable to speak. Only Barrie’s voice could be heard, cursing at Bell to keep up with us. He was getting slower every day. After a while, a numb indifference to the world seemed to come over me, and the hunger and the cold receded. It was not until the afternoon that the rain stopped, but the clouds stayed and the sun did not appear to dry the woods around us.
That night there was no cave and we were too tired to walk further to look for one. We rested in the low boughs of trees as we could not bring ourselves to lie on the wet ground. But as sleep claimed us, one by one, we would fall from our perches, and wake with a painful jolt. Barrie’s temper grew worse and all three of us tried not to speak to him so as to avoid a tongue-lashing. We could only wrap our arms around ourselves and shiver.
I did sleep that night, in fits and starts, but only because my bones were so weary I could have slept through a battle. We were all awake to watch the dawn and set off as soon as it was light enough to see the ground before us. Richard and me led the way, Barrie and Bell trailed behind.
‘I thought he was trying to kill me, when he fired the other night,’ I said. ‘Yes,’ said Richard. ‘They didn’t seem worried about you. “Less mouths to feed,” Barrie kept saying to himself.’
‘The sooner we find something to eat, the sooner we’ll feel better,’ said Richard. Talk of food made my stomach contract into a little ball. Finding some red berries, I picked one to taste.
‘Careful now,’ said Richard. ‘Crush it in your hand and smell it first.’ I did, on the tip of my finger and thumb. The berry was not moist, and broke down to a paste. I placed the tip of my tongue on the mush and recoiled with disgust. The taste was so bitter it burned my tongue and lodged in the back of my throat. Barrie and Bell caught up with us to see me retching, hands on knees. Barrie grabbed the berries at once. ‘You can’t fool me with your antics,’ he said, and stuffed them in his mouth. The berries came out as quickly as they had gone in.
‘What the hell did you do that for?’ said Richard, aghast.
‘Thought you were playin’ a game,’ said Barrie, between sputters, ‘to keep me and Mr Bell away from food.’
The taste of that single berry stayed in my mouth for the rest of the morning, until we found a muddy stream swollen with the recent rain, and I drank down the cloudy water. I kept thinking what Barrie’s mouth must have tasted like, and tried not to smile.
By noon our hunger was so intense we could think of nothing but food. The sun came out, and in the early afternoon we stopped by a large rock to spread our blankets to dry. As Richard and I lay there in the sunshine soaking up the warmth, Barrie came over to us. ‘I’m going looking for food, and Mr Bell is gathering wood for a fire. You two can make yerselves useful an’ all. Meet back here and see what we’ve got.’
We drifted aimlessly. There was nothing here except ferns, trees and cones. ‘We could try boiling up some of the ferns,’ I suggested.
‘Let’s see if Bell has the strength to gather and light a fire. You’d think there’d be some sort of fruit or vegetable for us to eat,’ said Richard.
After another hour’s wandering we returned with a handful of ferns for want of anything better to eat. Bell had done well. A fire blazed under the overhang of a rocky outcrop and we boiled water from a nearby stream in a billy can. Barrie had found nothing. ‘Where are all the bloody kangaroos?’ he said. ‘We saw them every day on the farm, and not a single one out here. I could eat a whole kangaroo right now.’
We boiled up the ferns and I volunteered to eat them. ‘If we boil them long enough, that should take the poison out of them,’ I told myself.
So when they were just a soggy mess and the water in the billy can had gone bright green, I lifted some stalks out with a clean twig. ‘Wish me luck,’ I said to them all, as they gathered round to watch. The smell of the ferns gave nothing away. They sm
elt slightly sharp, like tomatoes.
I blew to cool them, while Bell and Barrie urged me on. When I placed the soggy mess in my mouth, I could see them drooling, they were so hungry. The ferns were too woody, I chewed and chewed and still they did not seem ready to swallow. The taste, too, was bitter.
At last I swallowed, then tried another mouthful. But as I chewed I was seized by a violent desire to be sick. Out came the fern, and I knelt and retched for ten minutes. Afterwards, I felt weak and dizzy, and lay down away from the campfire to rest. Bright light seemed to make me worse. I couldn’t bear to look at the fire glinting on the brass buttons on Barrie’s jacket. Still, eating the ferns had cured me of my hunger for the moment. I slept well until daylight, when the raging hunger returned.
That next morning we all looked dreadful. It was now the seventh day of our escape, and the fourth since we had eaten. We talked about what to do. ‘Keep going east I suppose,’ said Richard. ‘Sooner we get to the coast the better.’
‘No sense in that,’ said Bell. ‘We’d just be wearing ourselves out, and getting nowhere. If we could find something to eat, we’d all have the strength to walk faster and maybe this blasted leg would begin to heal.’
His ankle looked even more swollen and he hobbled everywhere.
‘Let’s walk on until we find a cave that can do as our base,’ I said. ‘Somewhere we can shelter if it rains and we can store dry wood and build a fire that can’t be seen by soldiers or natives. Then we can go out hunting and meet back there.’
‘Right,’ said Barrie. ‘But you’re coming with me, Witchall. I don’t trust you two to share anything you find with us.’
Richard was indignant. ‘We’d trust you. You’ve got no reason to say that.’
‘All right then,’ he said. ‘But if I find out you’ve been eating food and not sharing it, I’ll have you for supper myself.’
Richard and I went to the river with the fish hook and twine Charlie Palmer had brought us. Barrie and Bell scoured the forest for edible plants. ‘Those two wouldn’t know an edible plant if it bit them in the ass,’ said Richard. ‘They’ve spent their whole lives in London or prison. Not much opportunity for foraging there. They probably wouldn’t even recognise a raspberry.’
Prison Ship Page 15
