Nor did I attempt to depreciate my achievements; on the contrary, Iexaggerated the facts as much as I possibly could.I described to them how I had fought and killed the whale with my stiletto in spite of the fact that the monster had smashed my boat.I told them that I was not afraid of facing anything single-handed, and Ieven went so far as to allege that I was good enough to go out against a nation! My whole object was to impress these people with my imaginary greatness, and I constantly made them marvel at my prowess with the bow and arrow.The fact of my being able to bring down a bird on the wing was nothing more nor less than a miracle to them.I was given the name of "Winnimah" by these people, because my arrows sped like lightning.Six of the alligator's teeth I took for myself, and made them into a circlet which I wore round my head.
Some little time after this incident I decided to remove my dwelling-place to the top of a headland on the other side of the bay, some twenty miles away, where I thought I could more readily discern any sail passing by out at sea.The blacks themselves, who were well aware of my hopes of getting back to my own people, had themselves suggested that I might find this a more likely place for the purpose than the low-lying coast on which their tribe was then encamped.They also pointed out to me, however, that I should find it cold living in so exposed a position.But the hope of seeing passing sails decided me, and one morning I took my departure, the whole nation of blacks coming out in full force to bid us adieu.Ithink the last thing they impressed upon me, in their peculiar native way, was that they would always be delighted and honoured to welcome me back among them.Yamba, of course, accompanied me, as also did my dog, and we were escorted across the bay by a host of my native friends in their catamarans.I pitched upon a fine bold spot for our dwelling-place, but the blacks assured me that we would find it uncomfortably cold and windy, to say nothing about the loneliness, which I could not but feel after so much intercourse with the friendly natives.I persisted, however, and we at length pitched our encampment, on the bleak headland, which Inow know to be Cape Londonderry, the highest northern point of Western Australia.Occasionally some of our black friends would pay us a visit, but we could never induce them to locate their village near us.
Day after day, day after day, I gazed wistfully over the sea for hours at a time, without ever seeing a sail, and at last I began to grow somewhat despondent, and sighed for the companionship of my black friends once more.Yamba was unremitting in her endeavours to make life pleasant for me and keep me well supplied with the best of food; but I could see that she, too, did not like living on this exposed and desolate spot.So, after a few weeks' experience of life there, I decided to return to my bay home, and later on make preparations for a journey overland to a point on the Australian coast, where I learned ships quite frequently passed.
The point in question was Somerset Point, at the extreme north of the Cape York peninsula; and I had learnt of its existence from Jensen when we were pearl-fishing.The blacks were delighted to see me on my return, and I remained with them several months before attempting my next journey.They were keenly anxious that I should join them in their fighting expeditions, but I always declined, on the ground that I was not a fighting man.The fact of the matter was, that I could never hope to throw a spear with anything like the dexterity they themselves possessed; and as spears were the principal weapons used in warfare, I was afraid I would not show up well at a critical moment.Moreover, the warriors defended themselves so dexterously with shields as to be all but invulnerable, whereas I had not the slightest idea of how to handle a shield.And for the sake of my ever-indispensable prestige, Icould not afford to make myself ridiculous in their eyes.I always took good care to let the blacks see me performing only those feats which I felt morally certain I could accomplish, and accomplish to their amazement.
So far I had won laurels enough with my mysterious arrows or "flying spears," as the natives considered them, and my prowess with the harpoon and tomahawk was sung in many tribes.And not the least awkward thing about my position was that I dared not even attempt a little quiet practice in spear-throwing, for fear the blacks should come upon me suddenly, when I would most certainly lose caste.I had several narrow escapes from this serious calamity, but most of them cannot be published here.I must tell you, though, that the blacks, when drinking at a river or water-hole, invariably scoop up the water with their hands, and never put their mouths right down close to the surface of the water.Well, one day I was guilty of this solecism.I had been out on a hunting expedition, and reached the water-hole with an intense burning thirst.My mentor was not with me.I fell on my knees and fairly buried my face in the life-giving fluid.Suddenly I heard murmurs behind me.I turned presently and saw a party of my blacks regarding me with horror.They said I drank like a kangaroo.But Yamba soon came to the rescue, and explained away the dreadful breach of etiquette, by telling them that I was not drinking, but simply cooling my face; when we were alone she solemnly cautioned me never to do it again.
The months passed slowly away, and I was still living the same monotonous life among my blacks--accompanying them upon their hunting expeditions, joining in their sports, and making periodical trips inland with Yamba, in preparation for the great journey Iproposed to make overland to Cape York.When I spoke to my devoted companion about my plans, she told me she was ready to accompany me wherever I went--to leave her people and to be for ever by my side.
Right well I knew that she would unhesitatingly do these things.
