In general appearance I was now absolutely like a black, and wore only an apron of emu skin as a protection against the scrub Iencountered when on the walk-about.In the ordinary way I never had any marks upon me with the exception of these scratches.Of course, on festive occasions, I was gaily painted and decorated, and no doubt I would have been initiated into manhood, and borne the tribal and other marks, were it not for the fact that I was a man when I came among the blacks.
It is obviously impossible for me to record minutely the happenings of every day, mainly because only the salient incidents stand out in my mind.Besides, I have already dealt with the daily routine, and have probably repeated myself in minor details.
A constant source of grief to me was the weakly condition of my two children, who I knew could never attain mature age.And knowing they were doomed, I think I loved them all the more.
Yet so incomprehensible is human nature that I often found myself speculating on what I should do after they--and Yamba--were gone;because by this time my faithful helpmate was growing ominously feeble.You must remember that when I first met her on the desert island she was an oldish woman, judged by the native standard; that is to say, she was about thirty.
The death-bed of my boy is a scene I can never forget.He called me to him, and said he was very glad he was dying, because he felt he would never have been strong enough to fight his way through life, and endure daily what the other black boys endured.
Therefore, he argued wistfully, and half inquiringly, he would only be a burden to me.He was a very affectionate and considerate little fellow, with an intelligence far beyond that of the ordinary aboriginal child.He spoke in English, because I had taught both him and his sister that language.At the last I learned--for the first time--that it was always worrying him, and almost breaking his little heart, that he could never compete with the black boys in their games of strength and skill; and no doubt he would have become an outcast were it not that he was my son.
Almost his last whispered words to me were that he would be able to assist me more in the Spirit-land than ever he could hope to do in the flesh.He was perfectly conscious to the last, and as I knelt down by his couch of fragrant eucalyptus leaves, and stooped low to catch his whispered message, he told me he seemed to be entering a beautiful new country, where the birds always sang and the flowers bloomed for ever.Spirit voices kept calling him, he said, and he felt himself being irresistibly drawn away from me.
Upon my own feelings I do not wish to dwell.All I will say is Ikissed my boy on the eyes and mouth, and then, with a soft "Good-bye, they have come for me," he closed his eyes for ever.
I felt it was to be.A few days afterwards the little girl, my remaining child, was taken ill, and so feeble was she, that she soon joined her brother in the better land.I seemed to be overwhelmed with misfortunes, but the greatest of all was yet to come.I have hinted that Yamba was beginning to show signs of infirmity through advancing years.I could not help noticing, with a vague feeling of helpless horror and sickening foreboding, that she had lost her high spirits and keen perception--to say nothing about the elasticity of her tread and her wonderful physical endurance generally.She was no longer able to accompany me on the long and interesting tramps which we had now taken together for so many years.Her skin began to wither and wrinkle, and she gradually took on the appearance of a very old woman.The result of this was I began to have fits of frightful depression and acute misery.I stayed at home a good deal now, partly because I knew the country thoroughly and no longer cared to explore, and partly also because I missed the companionship and invaluable assistance of my devoted wife.I constantly buoyed myself up with the hope that Yamba was only ailing temporarily, and that her enfeebled condition had been brought on mainly by the misfortunes that had befallen us of late.But she grew more and more feeble, and both she and I knew that the end was not far off.Never once, however, did we allude to such a catastrophe; and whenever I fixed my eyes earnestly upon her in the vain hope of discerning some more favourable symptom, she would pretend not to notice me.
I would sometimes take her for a long walk, which was really much beyond her strength, solely in order that we might delude ourselves with vain hopes.And she, poor creature, would tax herself far beyond her strength in order to afford me a happiness which the real state of things did not justify.
For instance, she would run and leap and jump in order to show that she was as young as ever; but after these strange and pathetic demonstrations she would endeavour to conceal her great exhaustion.
Very soon my poor Yamba was obliged to remain at home altogether;and as she grew more and more infirm, she plucked up courage to tell me that she knew she was going to die, and was rather glad than otherwise, because then I would be able to return to civilisation--that goal for which I had yearned through so many years.She pointed out to me that it would not be so difficult now, as I had already been brought into contact with parties of white men; and, besides, we had long ago had news brought to us about the construction of the Trans-Continental Telegraph Line from Adelaide to Port Darwin.No sooner had she spoken of death than Ibroke down again altogether.The thought that she should be taken from me was so cruel that its contemplation was quite insupportable, and I threw myself down beside her in a perfect agony of grief and dread.
