Nemarluk Page 3

  But hidden eyes were watching them, eyes that saw all things.

  “Jap men!” growled Minmara.

  Mankee held up three fingers. “We will easily kill them,” he grinned. “What a pity there are not a lot more!”

  “The others are Melville Island tribesmen,” sneered Mangul, and handled his bone dagger. “I would like the kidney fat of a Melville Island boy.”

  “Your chance will soon come,” growled Kerinbo.

  “He! he!” laughed skinny old Alligator. “They don’t know we won’t give them a chance to use their guns.”

  Nemarluk’s laughing face grew serious now that action was nearly come. After all, it was really he who had suggested this war.

  On board the lugger Ouida were the Japanese Nagata, Yoshida, and Owashi with a crew of Melville Island aboriginals. These boys were foreigners to the tribe ashore and well knew what would happen to them should they be taken by surprise. But there was no sign of life anywhere. They dropped anchor; downed sails, furled them; made all shipshape. Only then did a canoe shoot from the mangroves. The Melville Island crew boys were instantly on the alert, their spears and tomahawks beside them. The Japanese glanced at their guns, ready to hand.

  But there were only three men in the canoe. As it paddled swiftly alongside the crew boys saw there were no spears in the bottom of the canoe, could see no bone dangers concealed in the tangled hair and beards of the men. And then a big, laughing savage leaped aboard, and strode straight up to the Japanese, taking no notice of the crew. He laughed at the Japanese, saying something in rollicking voice. The little brown men stared up at this muscular savage surprised to see now that he was but little more than a boy. His fearlessness, too, surprised them. This was no cringing, cadging aboriginal, his swift glance around the deck was more like that of a captain, an owner.

  Minmara and Lin then leaped aboard and immediately squatted on deck. Though their shaggy eyes appeared not interested really they took in everything at a glance: the rifles, the tomahawks around the mast and handy by the cabin top, the spears evenly placed around the vessel, the sullen looks of the Melville Islanders now ranging them in.

  Nemarluk’s men saw that in case of sudden alarm a man, no matter where he might be at the moment could grasp a weapon anywhere.

  The Melville Island boys deeply suspicious, watched closely, and watched the shore too, expecting a fleet of canoes any moment.

  The Japanese asked Nemarluk if there was fresh water handy ashore. The Melville Islanders after some difficulty managed to translate question and reply.

  “There’s plenty of fresh water ashore,” assured Nemarluk, “plenty of wood, too. My people will lend you a hand to load the boat. But,” he laughed and smacked his stomach, “there’s better than water and wood. There’re plenty of wild geese in the lagoon. Load up the ship with ducks and geese if only you have those shooting irons that kill things!”

  And Nemarluk laughed his invitation to the skies. His eyes were dancing with pleasure, he waved his big arms towards the shore in imitation of flights of geese. He showed his fine white teeth and went through the motions of tearing a wild duck to pieces.

  The Japanese spoke amongst themselves.

  “It may be safe,” said the captain, dubiously. “These men wear no war paint; they carry no weapons. They are gluttons. They are thinking of the geese we can kill as against their own crude weapons. It is a grand opportunity to load water and at the same time fill up the larder with ducks and geese. We can shoot plenty for the savages, too, and that will keep them in a good humour. They will help us then with the water and wood. We will be perfectly safe as long as we are wary. We have fire-arms; they have only spears and clubs.”

  And his two companions, needing water badly, and eager at the prospect of fresh meat, agreed.

  CHAPTER IV

  THE KILLING OF THE BROWN MEN

  Nemarluk, grinning happily, put his hand to his tangled hair and pulled out a crab’s claw pipe. He flourished the claw with a smile. (It is from the big claw of the crab that the coastal aboriginals fashion a pipe.) Captain Nagata smiled and handed to Nemarluk and Minmara and Lin half a stick of trade tobacco each. They grabbed it with eager hands, stuffed their pipes, then going to the galley picked up a live coal and dropped it on the pipe. Puffing contentedly they squatted upon the deck, evidently contented to stay, to eat all they could, and make good fellows of themselves.

  They slept aboard that night; slept soundly coiled up on the deck. The Melville Island boys hardly slept at all. Blear-eyed, they frowned towards the dark shapes of their sleeping visitors; then, gripping spears, stared through dusky night towards the shore. But no shadowy canoes put off, no dark heads suddenly bobbed up beside the lugger. Dawn came and the visitors were still snoring contentedly.

  Later, they ate a lazy breakfast of rice; yawned; seemed in no hurry to go ashore. A grey crane flew across the bay with raucous cry. The snout of a crocodile rose up a hundred yards away; the cold eyes of the saurian regarded the lugger a moment then slowly sank. The visitors cadged another smoke, amiably squatting on deck. The Japanese watched them closely but these appeared to be men with no guile. Several hours passed. Then Nemarluk, with a broad smile suggested he should row ashore and bring some young women aboard to pluck the ducks and geese. He would even bring his own young wife, Marboo. All the women were good workers, quick at cleaning ducks and geese and fish.

  The Japanese hesitated and were lost.

  “If this man,” said Captain Nagata, seriously, “is game to bring his own wife aboard to help in cleaning the geese then surely they can mean us no harm. They dare not. For if they attacked us then we would have their own women aboard as hostages.” His mates, after a little talk, agreed.

  Nemarluk proved as good as his word. He canoed ashore and returned with five young women, among them Marboo. The Japanese now felt nearly sure that the aboriginals could mean them no harm. They set about further proving the goodwill of the strangers by ordering them to load the lugger with water. Soon, other aboriginals appeared as busily the canoes began plying between shore and lugger, bringing aboard kerosene tins full of water, and loads of firewood. A busy day, that. The sun went down, and all was well. For two days the work of loading went on, all in good comradeship. The edge of the Japanese suspicion was gradually blunted. On the third morning Nemarluk and his Red Band came lazily canoeing to the Ouida, the canoe song of the Cahn-mah echoing sweetly across the still water. The Red Band were unarmed. Leaping aboard in most friendly fashion, they squatted on the deck laughing and gossiping as canoe after canoe came to the lugger to be unloaded then paddled back to the shore for another load.

  Nagata the captain made up his mind to go ashore and shoot ducks—many ducks. He stepped into the dinghy and ordered a Melville crew boy to the oars. Sullenly the boy obeyed. Side by side canoe and dinghy paddled to the shore. The Melville Islander stood suspiciously by the dinghy while the captain stepped ashore. The unarmed aboriginals and the captain stepped into the bush.

  They took him to the lagoon, he could hear the call of ducks. Nemarluk signalled caution and on tiptoe stepped ahead to part the vines. He beckoned with a grin. Nagata stepped forward and his eyes gleamed at the sight of many ducks swimming upon the water. He raised his gun.

  “Bang!”

  A cloud of cackling wildfowl rose up to the echo of the gunshot.

  “Bang!”

  Ducks fell from a flock wheeling overhead. The Red Band laughed their delight as they waded out to secure the fallen ducks. The shooting was excellent. Cloud after cloud of ducks and geese rose whistling and trumpeting to gunshot after gunshot. Nagata was lured farther and farther in among the waterlogged timbers of the lagoon. And, then, when he was far from human aid they suddenly turned and killed him.

  “Quick!” hissed Nemarluk. They snatched up the geese and hurried back towards the dinghy to appear lazily sauntering among the trees. The Melville Islander was still standing by the dinghy.

  “Nagata told us
to bring the geese aboard,” explained Nemarluk as he threw his load into the canoe. “He is going to shoot us a kangaroo for ourselves. He will come along himself by and by.” And the Red Band stepped into the canoe.

  The Melville Islander stared in a frightened way. “You wait for Nagata,” ordered Nemarluk. “He will come soon.”

  Lin picked up the paddle and the canoe shot out toward the Ouida. Marragin stood in the bows triumphantly displaying the geese. But the Melville Islanders aboard stared down into the canoe.

  “Where Nagata?” demanded the Japanese as the Red Band leaped aboard.

  “He shoot kangaroo,” explained Nemarluk, and told how Nagata had ordered them aboard with the geese. The Japanese frowned but the Red Band strolled unconcernedly forward and squatting down by the women, began to smoke. The Melville Islanders suddenly slipped overboard into the canoe.

  “Where you go?” demanded Yoshida.

  “Go ashore look longa Nagata,” they replied.

  “Come back quick,” frowned Yoshida.

  “Arright.” And they paddled away.

  All seemed quite normal aboard, there was nothing to worry about. The aboriginals were chatting and laughing forrard, a blue crane flapped lazily overhead. With one more glance around the Japanese squatted down by the geese, adored their plumpness, and began to pluck them. Nemarluk’s eyes widened meaningly.

  The Red Band leaped up, seized tomahawks and in an instant were upon the Japanese. It was all over in seconds. With heaving chests they stood panting there with the blood-lust in their eyes. A shriek of triumph rang out from the shore now lined with painted figures rushing canoes to the water. The Melville Islanders shot outstream, their paddles plying in a race for life. Nemarluk’s Red Band were howling their triumph song on the blood-stained deck. The first action of their war, almost a complete triumph.

  Almost! The Melville Islanders were racing towards the sea. The canoes did not follow them, they shot straight out towards the lugger wild at the prospects of loot.

  “We’ll get them just when we want them,” laughed Nemarluk as he looked towards the fleeing Melville Islanders.

  But the crew boys were racing for their lives. With the yells of the Cahn-mah behind them, they bent to the oars and fairly lifted the dinghy from the water. “Up anchor!” roared Nemarluk, “they’ll get away.”

  Men and women were swarming aboard as canoe after canoe dashed up.

  “Up anchor!” roared Nemarluk. “Haul! Pull!”

  But the struggling mob, wildly excited, were unused to ships. A mob of men and women rushed to the anchor chain all in one another’s way, pulling in all directions, all howling and laughing. Old Alligator slipped and in going overboard pulled two others with him. A shriek of laughter arose, echoed by the three heads rising to the surface. All hands dropped the chain and the anchor rattled to the bottom again.

  “I’ll kill you all!” roared Nemarluk, and knocked men right and left. “Pull up that anchor. Pull up those sails.”

  Sobered by his wrath they manned the chain, clumsily unfurled the sails, hauled them up in a very unseamanlike way. But the sails filled, the Ouida began to forge ahead. The chase had started.

  The crew boys were now far down the bay and pulling swiftly with the effortless stroke of accomplished seamen. In less than half an hour Nemarluk’s men had learned how to handle tiller and sails. They were expert canoemen and soon had the feel of the Ouida; an hour later under a stiff breeze she began to make up leeway fast. Nemarluk roared with laughter; they all laughed, warriors and women and a crowd of youngsters. Eagerly they stared out towards the racing dinghy. An hour later and they were noticeably gaining, the slap of waves now dashed them with spray and caused roar after roar of laughter. Ah! they were gaining swiftly now, speeding along the coast; the straining men in that dinghy ahead were tiring fast.

  The Red Band leaped to the bows, roared their war song and rattled their spears, leaping high upon the deck. And all hands shrieked with laughter as the men ahead bent yet again to the oars and sprinted a little ahead.

  “Crash!” The Ouida rolled drunkenly, spilling half the people overboard, then all were over as boom and sail swung hard over. The ship lay on her beam ends hard and fast upon a sandbank.

  The hunted men had lured them into a trap, had raced the dinghy over a shallow bank upon which the Ouida had crashed.

  Scores of dark bodies treading water, gaspingly stared at the wreck. Nemarluk shouted his rage, rising in the water to shake his fist at the fleeing dinghy. Then he laughed.

  “Never mind,” he shouted. “They’ll get away now. Never mind, we’ll loot the ship.”

  They plunged back to the Ouida and scrambling aboard fought to get down below. Wild shouts as the stronger ones down there pulled out cases and bags and jars and bottles of foodstuffs, howls of delight when they smashed a case of tobacco. Everything was brought up on the sloping deck. Cases were smashed; bags were ripped open while they swarmed like ants around sweet meat. From an oily rag old Alligator pulled a shiny little iron thing. Loud “Wahs!” as they stared at the proud finder. Grinning widely he smelt the little barrel, squinted down it, began playing with the mechanism.

  “Bang!” and the bullet whistled within an inch of Marragin’s ear. Shocked silence. Then Marragin fell upon Alligator and they wrestled to fall and roll across the sloping deck overboard. The laughter cooled them off again. But all hands were very wary now of anything that looked like a fire-arm.

  Then Marboo gave a little shriek of delight. She was staring into a looking-glass. The young women crowded around her; all tried to peer into the glass; Cawnpore snatched it from Marboo; Marboo snatched it back again. Alligator snatched it from her. He saw a hideous old face lined with a thousand wrinkles around a big flat nose, and all around it was tangled hair and beard amongst which was a huge mouth. Alligator gazed unbelievingly then opened his mouth to roar with hysterical laughter. Nemarluk snatched the glass and peered in to see what Alligator had seen. He saw himself and he too roared with laughter as Weemullah snatched the glass while Maru glared over his shoulder.

  Every man and woman snatched the glass until the Ouida seemed possessed by mad things whose roars and shrieks of laughter rolled out to the silent shore.

  CHAPTER V

  THE FLIGHT

  That was a week of wonderful days—the Cahn-mah looting the Ouida. They stripped her to every bolt of iron then left her scarred, blood-stained decks to the sea and the wild sea birds. Back in their hidden camp again they lazed away the time, growing fat on the stolen food, smoking and smoking and smoking the good tobacco, fashioning wonderful spearheads and knives from the precious iron. By day, wispy smoke signals arising from Coor-i-ming and Coolandong lookout told the tribes far and wide of the victory. Old Alligator and Maru loaded with spoils were ready to set out for the Fitzmaurice on the morrow, to tell Tiger details of the victory.

  “Tell him,” said Nemarluk fiercely, “that we can beat the white and Jap men. Tell him to be cunning. To make friends. Then when you are right amongst them kill them suddenly and they cannot use their guns.” And the Red Band grunted assent.

  “No need to tell Tiger be cunning,” grinned Alligator.

  “He is cunning as the snake,” frowned Maru; “he will make his own plans. Come, we go. The people will be all waiting to hear us tell the news. It means the end of the white men.”

  And they vanished into the bush.

  It was night and very quiet; just a whisper from the sea away back through the mangroves. Stars far above. All around Nemarluk’s horde was the blackness of a dense vine scrub. The glow of their little fires was but the glow of coals deep down in hollowed shadows. The whites of eyes gleamed, now and then. Babies hardly whimpered. Every dog was quiet. The Australian aboriginal is always afraid of the dark. He believes that the spirits of the dead walk the earth when the sun has gone to sleep.

  A night bird swished by on heavy wings. There came a croak of a nankin bird; it cackled harshly as it alighted o
n some distant tree. Marboo shivered.

  “The crew boys who ran away!” she almost whimpered towards Nemarluk. “Won’t they travel to the white man town Darwin and tell the police ?”

  “Bah!” he growled and showed his teeth. “They were frightened to death. They will be making haste back to their island. They won’t dare go near the white men.”

  Nemarluk was right. The crew boys battled their way back to Melville Island and said nothing.

  It was months later before the crew boys returned to Darwin. Then, fearing vengeance, they told a story of shipwreck, of how only themselves were saved. It was such a good story that even the owner of the vessel was satisfied she had gone down.

  So the Red Band roamed the Wild Lands in untroubled triumph.

  But Bul-bul got on the scent. He learned that Widjullee had killed white man Watts. And then a totem friend whispered: “Nemarluk’s men have got guns!” With a grin on his face Bul-bul reported to the little Daly River Police Station, and told his suspicions to Mounted-constable Pryor.

  “It seems a long patrol,” decided Pryor, and gave orders for the mustering of the police horses. He must run Widjullee to earth. Try to find out, too, something about that wild band towards the coast being in possession of guns.

  The patrol vanished from the Daly.

  And smoke signals rose up to warn those in the Wild Lands. Marboo came running into In-dar-roo camp: “Police!” she gasped. On their feet in an instant they ran to a vantage point. Then Nemarluk turned furiously on Marboo.

  “It is only a smoke signal,” he snarled. “The police are riding from the Daly into the Wild Lands. They are far away; they might not even be after us. Even if they are, they will never catch us.”

  “They might as well try to catch the eagle,” laughed Mankee.