I Was
Steering, And Jim Was Standing Up In The Bows With His Carbine For A Shot,
If The Shark Offered Such An Opportunity.
As we neared the rock we could
distinctly see the black fin within six feet of the narrow ledge
On which
the poor fellow was standing, and only when we approached to within a
couple of boats' lengths, did the ferocious brute sail sullenly out to sea,
pursued by a harmless bullet from Jim's rifle. Poor Wordsworth dropped
into the boat fainting from terror, exhaustion, and loss of blood, for,
although he was unconscious of it all the time, in his convulsive grip, the
sharp oyster-shells had cut his hands to the very bone. A good glass of
grog and some hot tea - the bushman's infallible remedy - soon brought
him round, but the scars on his hands and knees will accompany him to his
grave. He afterwards described the glances that the shark threw at him as
perfectly diabolical, and confessed that he it not been for the cheery
hails of the pilot, he should most certainly have relinquished his hold,
and met with a death too horrible to contemplate.
It was now about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the boat being
launched, we resolved to reach Gould Island before dark. The tent was soon
struck, the provisions stowed away, the priming of the carbines looked to
afresh, and in a few minutes we were sweeping across the small belt of
water that separated the two islands. We approached the shore with
caution, for, as I mentioned before, the sides of Gould Island are
everywhere very steep, and hostile blacks, by simply dislodging some of the
loose masses of rock, could easily have smashed the boat and its crew to
pieces without exposing themselves to the slightest danger. Noiselessly,
and with every faculty painfully alert, we closed the land, sprang on to
the rocks, and at once set about the tedious task of breasting the hill.
Hill climbing, under the vertical sun of North Australia, is by no means an
enjoyable undertaking, more particularly when the loose shale and rock
gives way at every stride, bringing down an avalanche of rubbish on the
heads of the rearmost of the party. Encumbered with our carbines, we made
but slow progress, and it was nearly six o'clock before we attained the
summit, from whence we saw several canoes making their way with full speed
towards Hinchinbrook.
"So far then, so good," we said; "we have made certain that none of the
rascals are lurking about the two islands, and we are sure to get them now,
when we sweep Hinchinbrook."
We had now done everything that was possible until the 'Daylight' had
finished unloading, and so spread ourselves out about the island to see if
the blacks had left any of their curious implements behind them. We were
in no hurry to get back to the township, so purposed having supper where we
were, and pulling back in the cool of the evening, by the light of the
moon, which was just then in full glory. We found plenty of traces of the
blacks, the embers of their fires even still glowing, but they had carried
off everything with them, and no trophies crowned our search of Gould
Island; and yet I am wrong, for I got one memento, which I have by me
still, and which is so curious to lovers of natural history that I am
tempted to describe it. In rummaging about, I came to a place strewed with
old bones, shells, parrots' feathers, etc., close to which stood a platform
of interwoven sticks. I was terribly puzzled at first to account for the
presence of this miniature rag and bone depot, and my astonishment culminated when Ferdinand informed me that -
"Bird been make it that fellow; plenty d - d thief that fellow, steal like it pipe, like it anything."
It then flashed across me that I had fallen in with the "run" of the
bower-bird, of which I had so often heard, and had so often sought for
without success.
The satin bower-bird ('Ptilonorhynchus holosericus') belongs to the family
of starlings, and though tolerably common in New South Wales, is but a rare
visitor to the hotter climate of Northern Queensland. The plumage of the
adult male is of a glossy satin-like purple, appearing almost black, whilst
the females and the young are all of an olive-greenish colour. The
peculiarity for which this bird is generally known, is its habit of
constructing a sort of arbour of dry twigs, to act as a playground. These
bowers are usually made in some secluded place in the bush - not
infrequently under the shady boughs of a large tree - and vary
considerably in size, according to the number of birds resorting to them,
for they seem to be joint-stock affairs, and are not limited to one pair.
The bower itself is somewhat difficult to describe, and a better idea can
be formed from the engraving, or by visiting the British Museum, where
several are shown, than I can ever hope to set before the reader in words.
A number of sticks, most artistically woven together, form the base, from
the centre of which the walls of the structure arise. These walls are made
of lighter twigs, and considerable pains must be taken in their selection,
for they all have an inward curve, which in some "runs" cause the sides
almost to meet at the top. The degree of forethought that these
self-taught architects possess is strikingly exemplified in the fact that,
whilst building the walls, any forks or inequalities are turned 'outwards',
so as to offer no impediment to their free passage when skylarking (if it
is not an Irishism, using such an expression with regard to a starling) and
chasing each other through and through the bower, to which innocent
recreations, according to the testimony of Messrs. Cato and Ferdinand, they
devote the major part of their time.
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