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Chapter XIII.
How We Found the Depôt.

"What is to be done now?" That was the question which passed from lip to lip, as we four men sat in the gathering gloom of our hut,

"Now it is my opinion," said Mickey, "that this is not such a bad thing after all; for we have got to go on now, whether we like to or not."

"Got to go on," growled Walters—"yes, got to go on to our graves ! If we have got to die, we may just as well stop here and meet death comfortably, and not weary ourselves any further with this tramping through such horrible country."

"Shut up, Walters!" I said, "Don't take such a dreary view of things. After all, I am not sure that Mickey isn't right. Here we have been messing about for three days, jolly nearly starved to death, when, if we had only had pluck to face things, we might have been at the depôt by now."

Walters growled, but returned no answer; and then Knudsen spoke in his quiet, steady voice.

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"Well, there is no doubt about it; on we have got to go. We cannot go back; even if we made another frame, that canvas would never stand the voyage. It's going on, boys, and that is all about it; so let's turn in, and, wet or fine, we start at daybreak."

During that night it rained worse than ever it had done, and soon the water was pouring through the roof of our hut in torrents. We pulled off our sealskin shoes and our coats, and then we laid down, pulling the boat canvas right over us, in the hope that it would keep the wet out; but it was not long before it was corning through, and we were drenched to the skin; so that we did not have much rest that night.

However, with the daybreak the rain ceased, and the morning came clear and fine. In our desperate plight very little served to cheer us up, and even the sight of the sun glinting down, and a little blue sky showing where there had been nothing but grey clouds, seemed like a whisper of hope—a promise that success should be ours, after all.

We got up and swung our numbed arms about, to get some animation into them, and then we lashed on our clothes—I really mean lashed on—for by this time all our buttons were gone, and everything we wore had to be tied on.

"Now for breakfast," said Knudsen; and we sat down, cup up slices of our seal meat, mixed them with leaves, and had our morning meal. This finished, we prepared to start. page 234We rolled up the canvas—old as it was, it was all we had to shelter us—then we strapped it up,, and we agreed to take spells at carrying it as we went along—no light job, for that sodden sail was pretty heavy, I can tell you. Knudsen took the first turn, the rest of us sharing the sealskin and a supply of seal's flesh; and so we started along the beach, first towards the north-east side of the valley, and thus commenced our ascent.

We chose the north-east side, because there did not seem to be so many trees there; whereas the south, and the head of the valley, were literally covered with thick forest and bush.

"What are those tracks there?" said Walters, pointing to some marks which seemed to run in all directions.

"Wild animals—goats, most likely," I answered.

"Goats be bothered," said Mickey; "them's pig's tracks. Haven't I lived long enough in. the old country to know the size of the dear creatures? Them's pigs' tracks; and pigs mean pork, if we catch them."

That was all very well, but though we saw the tracks we did not see the pigs—therefore we did not get the pork.

Well, after a terrible drag and two or three spells of rest, we at last reached the head of the valley, and then, my word, it did take it out of us ! You can't imagine what that tramp was. Now we would be crossing thick swamps, sinking right up to our knees in the slimy mud, sometimes one getting out of his depth, standing in page 235danger of being smothered, and having to be hauled bodily out by the rest of us. And then, after the swamp, we would come to a strip of that awful bush, through which we had to push somehow, although in the doing of it our flesh was torn in great strips from our limbs. There is no exaggeration in that; it was not only being scratched—some of those thorns were so pliant that when they got in the flesh, they absolutely tore pieces out.

We were bruised, smothered with mud, torn and bleeding, and before we got to the top of that valley we staggered and limped like drunken men. All through this terrible tramp Knudsen had carried his heavy burden; but his face was ail green and drawn, and it was plain to see that he was nearly done up.

"What is it, Knudsen?" I asked. "Are you getting played out?"

"I feel nearly dead, Charlie," he answered; "I am all cramped inside. I think some of those leaves I have been chewing must have been poisonous, and they are making me feel very bad."

"Well, give me over the sail," I said; "I'll take a spell now. I haven't had much to carry, and I feel pretty fit." And Knudsen handed me his burden with a sigh of relief; though I believe, had I not spoken, he would have carried it until he had dropped.

When we reached the top of the valley we had a rest for a little while. Mickey threw himself down on the ground, and in spite of his good spirits groaned in weariness and pain; page 236and, as for Harry Walters, if he did not groan, he said things about that island which it would not be seemly for me to repeat to you.

Well, after a halt for a little while we started on again right across the top of that mountain, holding in a north-easterly direction. The mountain in this part was flat and rocky, and we could see for an enormous distance. We seemed to be miles and miles above our other little island, which we could plainly discern resting on the sea away to westward.

It was only to westward we had a view of the ocean. To south, to east, to north—whichever way we turned—we could only behold range upon range of hills, covered with the same impenetrable forest.

We tramped on as quickly as ever we could, but the difficulties of the way seemed only to increase. The ground was so very swampy that it was absolutely dangerous to try to cross it. But cross it we had to; there was nothing else for it. Had the swamps been twice as deep, had the streams been twice as fierce, if they had run with fire instead of water, we should have still had to go on. It was either that or turning back to perish, and, in perishing, ruin what little hopes our companions had of ever being succoured.

When we got over the swampy ground into the bush again, we heard a grunting and squealing, and hope rose high in our hearts. We were drawing near to one of the herds of wild pigs whose tracks we had seen. We did draw near, we saw them—some fifteen or twenty page 237bristly, fat monsters. But that was all we did do; for as soon as they saw us they set up a chorus of squeals and grunts, and they were off like one John Smith.

So far throughout our march the weather had been fine, and now the sun, which had long since passed the zenith, was beginning to decline in the westward, and as its slanting beams fell across the tree-tops we arrived at the verge of another big valley, which seemed to lead down to a long sort of bay.

Tired as we were, the sight cheered us up— we had absolutely crossed the island! But although we could see the water, we were a long way from it yet—over a mile; and though a mile may be nothing to a healthy man in England, a mile to us then was a terribly long distance, so weak we were, so terrible the country through which we had to tramp.

It was an awful forest that we now came to. The trees were nearly twenty feet high, and you will understand that they sloped down from the spot where we were towards the sea. And now I fear that some of my readers may not believe me, but I assure you that I am telling the you truth. That forest was so thick that we could not walk through it—we absolutely walked on top of the trees ! So thick, so dense, and so interwoven were the branches and creepers, that although they gave beneath the feet like a spring mattress, we could walk—or more often roll—over them without falling through.

Not but what we did not fall through again and again, for when roiling down we would page 238come to a break in the bush—either gaps or places where the foliage was not so thick—then, with a crash, a rending of branches, and tearing of clothes, down we would go slipping to the ground beneath, and have to clamber up again, helping one another as best we could. By the time we came to the end of the valley our clothes were literally torn off our bodies.

By the time we came to the end of the valley ! That was all very well, but we were not out of the forest yet; that stretched on and on right towards the water, and the nearer it came to the sea the thicker and more difficult it appeared.

We had to go along tearing a way for ourselves with our hands. I have read of travellers in sub-tropical forests, and in Africa's interior, who have had to cut ways for themselves, but we had neither knife, axe nor pruning-hook. Our hands were our only weapons, and the task was one so full of difficulties, that had it not been that our hearts were kept up by the knowledge of our desperate condition, i do not think we ever could have succeeded.

We came across four dead pigs here, two black and two white, but we let them lay. We knew that if we reached the Depôt food would be there, and so we forced our way onward, regardless of all else.

A little further along we came to a small clearing, in which grew one big tree by itself, and as we drew near to it we noticed that it seemed as if one of its big branches had been page 239cut away at some time or another. That heartened us considerably, for if that tree had been cut, human hands must have cut it. We went close up to it, examined it carefully, and saw that we were correct; there still remained the marks of the axe on two or three branches. Mind you, they were very old; they must have been made years and years ago; but still in that forest no man would cut marks just for the mere sake of doing it—they were cut with an object; they were signs—if they meant anything at all; they were meant to direct people onwards. It was our first clue, and feeble though it was, it filled our hearts with joy. So we pushed on and on, forgetting our weariness and fatigue, and at last we came out of the forest and found ourselves at the water's edge, in a sort of little bay.

It was a strange, mystic scene, that upon which our eyes rested, and over everything a silence brooding like that of the tomb, broken only by the rippling fresh water as it trickled over the rocks and found its way into the sea.

Away to our right was a long, low spit of land running out for about nine miles from where we stood, which was covered right to its extremity with the same forest growth.

Right in front of us, some miles out to sea, we could see a small island; and on our left, separated from us by a fresh-water creek, and covered with the same never-ending forest, was another headland, running out into the sea, and curving round to the northward.

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I want you to try and picture that if you can. We were close to the sea—on our right the one headland, and our left the other, and between us and the one on the left the fresh-water creek.

It was now getting quite late, and we felt that the wisest thing we could do was to look for some place where we could camp for the night, since it would be no joke to be caught in the forest depths, where, for aught we knew to the contrary, wild beasts and serpents might abound.

We had not had anything between our lips since we started our march at daybreak, with the exception of leaves which we had plucked as we went along, and chewed to stave off both hunger and thirst, so it will not be hard for you to imagine the condition we were in just then. There we sat on that little beach, staring out at the sea over which the shades of evening were fast gathering—weary, worn, and wounded by those terrible thorns, and to right, to left, to the rear, mile after mile of forest of "Rata," as I have since learned that it is called.

"Well, we have got to make the best of it here !" said Knudsen, rising wearily. "Perhaps to-morrow luck may come our way."

"I wish we had a match," sighed Mickey, and I am afraid that I answered him rather crossly.

"What is the good of wishing. You might just as well wish for a seven-course dinner to be served up before you !"

And yet it was hard. We had got somewhat page 241warm with, our exertions and toil, but now as we sat there, a bitter, biting wind seemed to penetrate to our very bones and make us shiver again. And there was wood; wood enough to make ten thousand fires if we could have had only one match to start it. It put me in mind of those lines of poetry, I think they are taken from the" Ancient Mariner":

"Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink."

Well, we had just picked upon a spot to camp, when Mickey, standing on the edge of the freshwater creek I have mentioned, staring hard across at the opposite shore, muttered more to himself than the to rest of us:

"Now, phwat's that thing foreninst there ?"

"What's what, Mickey ?" I said.

"That thing over there. Bedad, it looks like a white post! There, can't you see it all by itself, on the shore on the opposite side "

"My word, you are right, Mickey !" I cried eagerly, for there, faint and dim in the waning light, on the opposite side of the creek, was something which looked like a white-painted post, and a white-painted post was the last thing we expected to find in that place.

Knudsen and Walters now joined us, and we all four stood staring across the water, trying to make out the significance of this strange object, until Mickey observed:

"By the powers, this wants looking into, and it is myself that is going to do it."

Now, Mickey was always the boy to take the shortest cut, and he did so in this instance.

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That may be no credit to him, because I very much doubt whether we could have come to that post by any other path than that which he took, since there was no telling how far back that creek ran into the forest. It was going round it, or crossing it, and as going round was out of the question, Mickey went across.

It must have been a precious cold walk for him—we were cold as it was, but the water was worse, and that water was above Mickey's shoulders, right up to his neck, before he got to the opposite bank. We saw him clamber out, shake himself like a great dog, and then, walking up to the sign-post, stood staring at it.

"What is it, Mickey ?" we shouted across, and his answer came ringing back, waking strange echoes in that solitude:

"By the powers it is a sign-post!"

A sign-post! A sign-post in that place! 1 felt a lump rise in my throat as I heard those words. Could it be possible that we were arriving near to our destination ? Yes, it was possible, for in response to our query shouted across, "What does it say, Mickey ?" the answer came back, a joyous message that seemed too good to be true, for Mickey shouted:

"Four miles to the Provision Depôt!" It is impossible to describe the effect of those words upon us. It was electrical. We shook each other's hands, we laughed, we cheered, we behaved in the most foolish fashion just for a page 243few seconds, and then, with a whoop and a rush, we had picked up our traps and we were in that cold water wading over to Mickey. "Four miles to the Provision DepDepôtt!" The darkness was fast falling around us, but still there was light enough for us to decipher that joyful message.

"Four miles to the Provision DepDepôtt !" God bless the man who wrote those words to cheer us up ! There we stood in front of that post, ragged, torn, soaked to the skin.

Ten minutes before we had felt so utterly exhausted that it had seemed impossible for us to take another step. Had our lives depended upon it we should have said that we could not have continued our tramp, but now all our toils, our weakness, our weariness and our pain were forgotten—they had fled like the mists before the rising of the sun. We felt we were now men full of vigour and resolve, and before very long we were all of us pushing along as hard as we could go, in the direction indicated.

My word! It was wonderful to see how we did go ! You should have seen us jumping over rocks, taking running leaps over streams, cutting off corners by wading right out into the sea up to our necks, scrambling with a splash and a scurry through the fresh-water creeks, and all the time keeping up a cheerful laughter and conversation.

Why, we looked more like beanfeasters out enjoying themselves than the four almost dead men that had been such a short time before, so page 244wonderful was the effect of those few words we had read on that white board.

We kept to the beach as far as possible; It might mean that we were going a longer distance but it would also mean that we were not half so likely to miss our way. You see, we knew the Depôt would be on the shore somewhere, or close to it; they would not build Depôts far inland, where fellows who were shipwrecked might never stand the chance of finding them.

But we could not keep the beach all the way, for we found at places it was like the shore at Disappointment Island-—deep water sheer up to the face of the cliff. And then we had to penetrate into the bush, still keeping as close to the sea as possible, and force our way as best we could in a north-easterly direction.

But, although we were so cheerful, this portion of our march was perhaps the most dangerous and difficult, because it was now dark, with a darkness such as is rarely experienced in more favoured climes. There wasn't a glimpse of light in the sky, not even the faintest ray from a star. Overhead was nothing but one inky pall of blackness; so that in the forest, where it is gloomy enough even on a bright day, the darkness was something to remember.

You literally could not see a foot before you. You might walk right up to a tree until you ran your nose against it, and that would be the first indication that it was there at all. And you must remember that it wasn't one tree, but thousands of trees, growing so close together page 245that it was a matter of impossibility to avoid them; and between the trees, twisting and twining like some great fishing-net or vegetable-spider's web, those horrible creepers and thorns.

Well, we pushed on, and eventually came out on the shore again, and there, opposite, we came upon another white post upon which was painted," Two miles to the Provision Depôt"

Two miles ! Half our journey done—only two more miles of toil and privation ! What was that to us who had come so many weary miles from Disappointment Island ? Why, it was a mere nothing; as Mickey expressed it to me:

"Faith, I could do it on my head !" But we had to go more than two miles before we had finished, for a very little way past the signpost we found that the sea shut off our road, so once more we had to turn and plunge into the bush.

But this time we were all so eager that we forgot to be cautious, and so, instead of keeping close together as we had done in the past, rendering aid to each other when we were in difficulties, we got separated, each man pressing forward on his own, and only shouting to each other through the darkness just to keep within touch.

After progressing for some distance like this, we discovered the rather startling fact that Mickey was missing. He did not answer when we shouted to him. As soon as that was discovered I called a halt, and, guided by our page 246whistlings and "coo-ees," we three fellows drew close together and held a consultation. We shouted and we "coo-eed," and although we got plenty of answers, they were only the echoes of the vast forest—not the voice of our merry Irish companion.

"What's to be done now?" queried Walters.

But, as a matter of fact, it seemed as though nothing could be done. Searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack would have been a child's task compared with looking for our companion in that dense forest, unless we were guided by his voice.

"What on earth can have become of him?" said Knudsen. "He must be seriously injured, or else he would surely answer our cries."

Somehow or other, I didn't quite agree with them I had a very firm faith in Mickey's capacity for turning up all right, and I expressed it as my opinion that our comrade had got ahead of us—perhaps out of range of our voices—and that if we pushed on our way we should surely find him safe at the end.

"You can trust Mickey for getting there, when it comes to anything to eat or drink," I said. "He knows the way we have got to go as well as we do, and I don't think we need have any anxiety about him."

Well, whether there was any need for anxiety or not, it was absolutely certain it was no good stopping where we were. We had spent half an hour in shouting without any results, page 247and the only thing to do now was to get on, in the hopes that our companion was all right, and if we did not find him at the depot, or if he did not come in shortly after we got there, then turn out and search for him again.

And so we pushed on. The signpost told us we had only two miles to go, but after we had been tramping for some time we began to think they were the longest two miles that ever mortal feet had walked.

"We are on the wrong tack," I said.

"We are right," said Knudsen.

"Don't believe we are," I retorted.

"Drop talking, and let's go on and see," put in Walters. And, after all, his advice was the most sensible, for whether we were right or whether we were wrong could only be determined by subsequent events.

Well, we pushed on, and presently we got another glimpse of the sea, and then we came on another post.

"Seems to me I know this place," I said. "It has a sort of familiar look about it."'

Knudsen grunted, Walters growled. It was no good contradicting my words, the unpleasant truth burst upon us, when we had stopped to look for Mickey we had lost our bearings and we had got properly bushed. We had been tramping round in that abominable forest, only to find ourselves back at the two-mile post, and as far off from the depot as ever.

But now over to seaward we saw a silver gleam in the sky, and then, bright and clear, the moon arose. How thankful we were for page 248that! By the aid of her beams, the perils of our journey would be considerably mitigated.

We started off once more, determined not to lose our way again, and keeping as close to the coast as we possibly could.

"Walters!"

"Hallo!" Walters turned round to me— it was I who had hailed him. "Well, Charlie, what do you want with me?"

"I don't want to be unreasonable," I said, "but don't you think a little exercise would do you good ?"

Walters looked at me, not quite understanding what I meant, and then gently, kindly, but firmly, I placed that sailcloth on his shoulder. I had been carrying it all day, ever since I relieved Knudsen, and by this time I had had enough of it.

"You look very nice like that," I said quietly. "Now let's get on again."

Walters gave one of his grunts—they were wonderfully expressive—but he accepted the burden I had imposed upon him.

It was a wonderful walk that, in the quiet silver moonlight. As I have told you, the brooding silence was one of the things which struck us most, and in the moonlight it seemed something too grand for description.

As we followed the winding shore, behind us was the dense blackness of the forest, and in front, the waves breaking in rhythmic regularity upon the beach. In and out we followed the indentations of the shore, until at last we raised a joyful shout, for there, rising above the dense page 249bush of the forest, towering between thirty and forty feet in the air, we saw a ship's mast, which had once been white, but which weather and time had now reduced to a nondescript grey.

It was in the bush a little way from the beach, and it was not very long before we three fellows were close up to it. There was a board nailed to the mast, on which was a notice to the effect that one of H.M.S.—I cannot remember the name—had been there on a visit of inspection, had repainted the beacons and depôt, and had replenished the stores in March, 1896.

The mast was canting towards the beach. Originally it had been fixed up with wire stays of some sort, but these had long since disappeared, rusted through and through.

On we pushed, and just as we were turning into another little bay on the opposite shore we saw two white roofs, appearing over the mass of forest timber. We were all properly done up now, but the sight of those roofs urged us on. We knew we had come to our journey's end, and the thought which was in all our minds was expressed by Walters as he said:

"Thank God, boys, we have got here safety, but I wish poor old Mickey was here with us!"

We made our way through the bush, having crossed the creek, and as we drew near to the depôt we heard strange, rustling sounds. And Knudsen said:

"Go steady, boys! There is something knocking around there, and goodness only knows what it is!"

"Wild animals of some sort," said Walters

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And I capped it by adding:

"Perhaps it is a savage !"

But wild animal or savage, we were bound to go on. We had risked too much to reach the depôt, and it would be a big thing that would turn us back now.

So we pushed on, and came out into a little clearing, in which were two sturdy buildings. Cautiously we drew near, for we could still hear the rustling. Then we burst into a hearty laugh, and rushed forward. There, coming towards us, a smile all over his face, a big ship's biscuit in either hand, and his mouth so full that he couldn't utter a sound, was our lost comrade—Mickey himself!