The Land of the Hibiscus Blossom
James Hume Nisbet (1888)
Country of origin: Australia
Available texts by the same author here
XXXVII. A Walloby Hunt.
BEYOND the ordinary feelings of gloom which follow death, there was not much regret exhibited by any one on board at the death which had just taken place. Killmann had not done a single action of kindness to any one on board, and if his manner were at times soft and his voice gentle, they were always suggestive of the tiger-cat playing with his victim; the cook, indeed, did not attempt to conceal his entire satisfaction at what he considered to be a most providential dispensation, and went about his duty of preparing breakfast with a more beaming countenance than he had shown since he had been drafted on to the Nora.It was, therefore, with a feeling of relief that Hector hailed the appearance of the walloby hunting-party which he was to accompany, Collins having promised to stay on board and look after things.
The natives were by this time all over the ship; yet, although they touched and handled everything, they were scrupulously honest, and laid the things back, after gratifying their curiosity, as they had found them.
Amongst the party who came on board, and who were of the hunters, were the father and three brothers of "Jenny," as Hector called his lady friend. She introduced him, and gave them special charge to attend upon him during the day.
They made no inquiry as to where or how she had spent the night, evidently thinking that she could look after herself, as Hector now also began to think.
The other maidens who came on board chaffed her a good deal about her conquest, but did not offer to cut her out in any way; she received their fun with perfect calmness, and showed by her manner that she was in complete possession.
Hector did not attempt to combat this female arrogation of his free will. The tyrant was pretty and winning in her method of subduing him, and he seemed pleased with the silken fetters which she had cast about him from the first, yet it was not so much a case of love-making on his part, as of allowing himself to be adored.
"I say, mate," growled Collins, "how far do you intend this tom-fooling to go on?"
"Well, mate, I haven't quite made up my mind yet about it," replied Hector.
"She intends making it up for you, if you don't."
"Well, you see, mate, I might go further and fare worse; she's a good--looking gal, and there'll be a tidy bit of land go along with her."
"What! d'ye mean to settle down?"
"I might do worse," replied Hector, turning away.
"Ah! that's the way the wind blows; by the Lord, we might all do worse, easily."
After the party left, Collins walked about the deck, puffing at his cherry-wood pipe in a very much absorbed manner.
"Not a finer piece of ground in the whole country. A man might easily clear his pile by a few years' squatting, and do nothing himself all day long except lie on his back; Joe aint such a cussed fool after all," he thought.
The girls made themselves merry with the Malay sailors and John, who seemed to become a great favourite in a very short time. John's cooking operations in consequence were much disturbed, and for the first time a smell of burning pervaded the forenoon air, as his galley became a general reception-room; but none of the fair ones offered to approach the meditative Collins, perhaps considering him too high a dignitary to approach without feelings of awe and reverence.
On the after-deck, which none of the young women came near, sat a circle of old crones, chanting a monotonous song in dreary tones as they watched over the corpse, and kept the flies from alighting upon the wax--like, sallow features.
The natives had to cross the river before they reached their hunting--ground, and by way of preparation they came fasting to the ground, and, when they started, walking in single file, trailed their hunting-spears behind them without speaking a word.
Hector knew enough of native customs to accept his position in the ranks, walking between the brothers of Jenny, and also carrying the spear which they brought for him; yet, besides his spear, he had taken the precaution of slinging his Winchester to his back.
In the rear followed the younger men, carrying coils of native-spun nets and long poles.
He did not mention the breakfast which he had partaken of that morning to his fellow-huntsmen.
By-and-by they came to the crossing, where they found a raft lying ready made, composed of several pieces of log and crossed vines, above which a large platform had been raised. Long rattans were attached to the raft, and carried by expert swimmers across the river, the swimmers then drawing the others over.
After crossing the river, they passed along in the same order and silence until they reached a field of dry cane-grass, enclosed by steep low hills on three sides, leaving a single outlet towards the river-side.
They did not enter the field or valley, but now the younger men ran round it, enclosing it with their nets, which they fastened to the poles at different points, leaving here and there wide gaps between, at which the hunters stationed themselves.
They had chosen the hour of day when what wind there was blew from the hills down towards the river.
Then, after these arrangements were completed, they set fire to the grass at the top of the valley, and waited patiently but watchful at their gaps for the scared game to come out.
Hunting, like fishing, is a brutal and ignoble game, even at its highest and most daring aspect, gloss it over however writers may with showy descriptions and merry songs of, "We'll all go a-hunting to-day," &c. This was merely the converting of a peaceful valley into a battue and slaughter-yard. As the flames and smoke rushed downward all that had life fled towards the river, butting madly against the restraining netting, until they had discovered the treacherous gateways, and rushing, to reverse the simile, from the fire into the frying-pan.
Kangaroos, wallobies, and wild pigs came charging down and out, and as they passed were stabbed to death by the hunters.
It was all over in about half an hour, and then they could count up their victims and carry them back to their rejoicing friends. Hector did marvels with his spear, and when his arms tired of that sport he brought out his Winchester and potted the retreating game that had escaped the spear--thrusts. The wild pigs inspired no pity in his breast. There is something about a pig, wild or tame, which prompts one to kill it; a dead pig has no pathos about it: it is only suggestive of roast pork, bacon, and grovelling baseness, without a spark of sentiment to redeem it. But it was different with the kangaroos and wallobies, as they leapt forward wildly and beat against their trap nettings with the flames behind them, and their hind--like eyes meltingly expressive of horror; Hector found it much easier to hold back his spear and let them escape, than he did to stab the gentle creatures to death.
With the other hunters supper was of much greater importance than weak sentiment. Hector brought down a much greater number of wild pigs than he bagged of kangaroos.
As they returned, heavily laden, they all sang a loud paean of rejoicing over the quantity of flesh which they had secured.
Along the pathway, over the river, and towards the village they passed, dancing and singing their loud song. Here the women met them with glad cries, and took the game from them, staggering under the welcome load, while the men slackened their pace, and prepared the bamboo pipes.
Jenny came with the rest, and brought her mother along with her, so that Hector had the rare delight of a maternal embrace to refresh him. The old lady wanted to take him home, so that he might begin his month of trial at once, but waved this fine point of etiquette when she saw he would not come, and allowed him to go his own way, her daughter following instead. Still the old lady wagged her head disapprovingly as she let them go, as if it was establishing a precedent dangerous to the rights and happiness of womankind. She, however, looked narrowly after his share of the game, claiming all which bore bullet-holes, and as many as they would allow her of the others, carrying them, with the aid of the sons and husband, to her own residence to cure at her leisure.
Hector was pleased to see the maiden again, and passing his arm round her naked waist, went on with her leisurely through the fields towards the river's edge. He had committed himself now, and did not regret his betrothal, for she was very tender and soft when she was alone with him, if dignified a trifle before spectators.
They did not speak much, for they could not, as they went through the fields, but they paused often and faced one another; then the space lessened between them considerably, and Hector did not care how soon the wedding came off, as he felt her warm body against his upper pijamas, and her moist, loving lips pressed against his.
They did not require to speak much, for Jenny felt herself the mistress of the position; she had caught her hare, and she knew how to dress him, as what woman doesn't, savage or civilized.
When they came to the banks of the river she was like Venus carrying the arms of Mars, for round her slender shoulders she had the dreaded Winchester, and stuck in the waist of her raumma or grass petticoat his trusty revolvers, while he walked along at her side, with his arm loosely circling her neck.
He had made up his mind to be a Papuan farmer.
"Hallo!" said he, starting back, as his eyes rested on the river, and rubbing them with both hands to see if he was really awake; "the Thunder alongside of the Nora!"
It was so. There lay the Thunder alongside of the Nora, with the light smoke escaping from her funnel.
"Who would have thought it?" And he ran along the river-bank and up the plank towards the steamer, Jenny, faithful, never-failing Jenny, following at his heels.
There a greater surprise awaited him--the supposed to be dead Niggeree calmly smoking his pipe, in the company of Bowman, Brown, Danby, Collins, Captain MacAndrews, and Hans the engineer.
"Had good sport?" observed Niggeree, looking up with an unconcerned air.
"Well, I'm blessed!" was all Hector could ejaculate, as he dropped of a heap into the vacant deck-chair. "Could any one hand me a drink?"