Battle Fleet (2007) (8 page)

The tiger stared with regal disdain, daring me to come closer. I stood stock still, clutching my coconut. I began to tremble with fear, a wave of shivering which I could not stop. I wondered if he’d let me walk away or would that be his moment to pounce? I could not bring myself to move.

The loud crack of a musket broke the spell. The shot whistled past my ear and sent a shower of bark and splinters down on the tiger’s head. Startled, the beast gave a ferocious roar and leaped into the dense undergrowth. It was all Bagley needed. He staggered to his feet and ran for the tree. We both scrambled up, as swiftly as our limbs allowed. ‘Quickly,’ screamed Bel. Any second now I expected those claws to dig into my back like ten little daggers. I hardly noticed Garrick, musket in hand, climbing up beside us.

Only when we had all reached the safety of a higher branch did I dare look down. The tiger came back a
moment later, fluid as quicksilver, pacing backwards and forwards at the base of the tree. Stretching up again, waving those paws. But this time we were out of reach. He roared and we recoiled from the stench of his breath. It was the kind of roar you could imagine starting an earthquake.

‘You roar all you like, mate,’ Bel shouted down. ‘Roarin’ won’t do us no harm.’ He turned his attention to her, looking her straight in the eye as he snarled.

‘Lord Jesus,’ said Garrick. ‘Just look at the thing.’

‘You saved my life, Mr Garrick,’ I said.

‘I heard you shoutin’. Didn’t you hear me callin’ back?’ he said. We hadn’t.

Garrick tried to reload his musket, but it was a difficult procedure balanced on a narrow branch, just out of reach of a man-eating tiger. Whenever he moved, the branch wobbled or creaked alarmingly. He gave up and fixed a bayonet to the muzzle instead. ‘Just in case he tries to climb up.’ Garrick seemed quite calm, and his courage gave me heart.

The tiger started licking a paw. Then he turned away from us, as if in a huff. Bel giggled. ‘He’s just like my Growler, back home. He sulks too, when he doesn’t get his own way.’ It was strange seeing this magnificent beast behaving like a house cat.

Bagley was too shocked to talk. Four streaks of blood matched four ragged tears in the back of his shirt.
His neck was raw and bruised where the tiger had dragged him along.

The monkey made a little squeak and held out his hand. We gave him more fruit and I gingerly stretched out my hand to stroke the back of his head. Much to my delight he shuffled up the branch towards me and put one of his arms around my back.

A few minutes passed. Birds erupted from the trees behind us. Something else was bumbling or prowling around. The tiger had grown bored. He strolled slowly back into the forest, searching for something less troublesome to have for his dinner.

We weren’t ready to move. Anything could happen when we came down from that tree. But after a while we heard other voices calling for us, Evison’s among them. Startled, the monkey bounded away.

‘Over here,’ cried out Bel, and soon enough Evison and three of his men appeared.

‘What in heaven’s name are you doing up there?’ asked the Captain. When we told him, he sounded a bit affronted. ‘You might have warned us,’ he said.

Bel was unabashed. ‘I knew you’d have muskets,’ she chided, and went on, ‘Mr Garrick here just saved our lives!’

We walked off, Bagley still too pale and frightened to talk.

‘Just one thing,’ said Bel to me when we were back on
the beach. ‘The monkey. I wonder who gave him that necklace and taught him to fetch coconuts?’

Were there other natives here? Maybe he had been the pet of one of the dead we had buried. Maybe he had escaped from someone who was watching us even as we spoke.

It took Garrick another day before he found a tree suitable to use as a mast. It was duly felled and laboriously heaved out to the beach where he set about stripping and preparing it for the ship.

We stayed there on the beach during the day and returned to the
Orion
at night. She was anchored a fair way off, for the sea was shallow for several hundred feet beyond the shore. Now, whenever I returned I kept thinking about who owned that monkey and whether they would make themselves known to us.

I asked Evison if he knew anything about the people
of these parts. ‘A bit,’ he said cagily. ‘There aren’t many of them, so I’m hoping we won’t come to their attention. They’re dirty in their dress and dwelling places, but they’re clever too – they cultivate land, breed cattle and have their own script. They believe in evil spirits. They are small in stature – the women especially rarely grow taller than our ten year olds.’

‘They don’t sound too bad,’ I said. ‘They train monkeys too.’ This was of no interest to him.

Then Evison said, ‘Their least appealing feature is a fondness for human flesh. I don’t think we should tarry here too long.’

That day I heard Evison and Garrick arguing. ‘It’ll not be ready for another three days,’ said the carpenter crossly. ‘I do a bad job and it’ll come crashin’ down in calm weather never mind a storm. I’ll not have sailors’ lives on my conscience.’

Evison was jumpy. Perhaps he felt we were pushing our luck staying this long. He often peered into the jungle close to the beach, as if he were expecting trouble.

Now when we ventured into the jungle to search for food and water we went in groups of four or five, at least two armed with musket and pistol.

Two days later the natives made their first appearance. Ten of them stood on the far edge of the sweeping crescent of sand that made up the beach. They were naked
save for loincloths and leaned on their spears, broad brown faces regarding us blankly.

‘They’re all children,’ said Bagley with derision. ‘Just look at the size of them.’

‘They might be small,’ said Evison, ‘but they can still kill us. They’re sizing us up, wondering if we’re worth a fight.’

He and Garrick fell into conversation. ‘There’s several days’ work here that’ll go to waste if we just up sticks and run,’ said the carpenter. ‘We don’t know for sure that they’re hostile. They might just want to trade?’

‘Let’s see then,’ said the Captain. ‘Men. Gather your belongings, but do it slowly. Don’t let them think we’re frightened of them. Let’s see what these fellows are like.’

Evison turned and stood aside from the rest of us, then waved. One of the native men, attired in a fine feather headdress, stood forward and waved back. Then they called and beckoned Evison to come over to them.

‘Don’t go,’ said Bagley. ‘They could kill you on the spot and then have a go at us.’

The distance between them and our boat moored near the shoreline was roughly the same. We could not be certain of reaching it before they caught up with us.

I could feel the fear running between us like a magnetic force.

Evison was being put on the spot. ‘Who will come with me?’ he said tersely.

Not going would show we were afraid of them. ‘I’ll go,’ I heard myself saying.

‘I need brawn, lad,’ he said.

My volunteering shamed the other men. Lieutenant Hossack, Garrick and Bedlington stepped forward.

‘Are you all armed?’ asked Evison. They nodded. ‘Then let’s see what they’re made of.’

Seeing four of our party walk towards them, the native chief immediately selected three of his men to go with him, and they walked forward to meet our fellows on neutral ground.

As they grew closer the chief called out, ‘Geen wapen.’

‘That sounds like Dutch,’ said one of our men. ‘He’s saying “No weapons.”’

To emphasise the point the natives laid down their spears and knives in the sand.

We saw Evison and his men do the same with their guns, and I wondered if some of the natives would nip out of the forest to snatch them.

The two groups met, and both Evison and the chief made bowing motions. We were still anxious, but the meeting seemed to go well.

Evison returned with a smile. ‘They want to trade. I said we would return tomorrow with plates and nails. They say they have gold to give us. Gold from the far hills.’

‘So you could understand them?’ I said. Evison shrugged.

‘A few words. The chief, he speaks a little Dutch and so do I.’

The next day we returned. The natives did too. Evison had brought several bags of nails from the
Orion
and went with two of the crew to barter with them. I watched from a distance. The Captain was arguing heatedly. We held our breath, wondering if our comrades were going to be slaughtered.

The natives backed away and began to make contrite gestures – bowing and holding their hands in a submissive way. I began to breathe again and noticed my hands were trembling. Bel held tightly to my arm. ‘Thought we’d had it then,’ she whispered.

Evison returned to our party. ‘They’ve no gold, so there’s no nails for them. Their chief says he has sent men into the mountains for it and they’ll be a few days. But I don’t think they’re really going to exchange their gold for a few nails. I think they’re waiting for more of their kind to arrive, and then they’ll have a go at us.’

He turned to the carpenter. ‘They’re very interested in your tools, Mr Garrick. I think the sooner you’re away with your mast and tool bag, the better.’

‘Then let’s go,’ said Garrick. ‘We’ll have to carry on shaping the mast when we have it in place on the
Orion
.’

Evison spoke again. ‘I can’t take you all, and the mast, right now. I want those of you remaining to spend the last hour or two here stocking up on any fruits and vegetables you can find. It’ll be valuable work and useful in keeping the scurvy at bay. Stay together, stay away from the natives and stay close enough to the beach to be ready for us when we return. I’ve told them we’ll be back for their gold but my guess is they’ll attack if they think we’re going for good. If some of us stay, they’ll know for sure we’ll be coming back.’

The Captain took Bel to one side. He looked solemn as he spoke and she nodded a few times. Then we all helped push the mast into the shallows and watched as they attached it to the stern of the boat with a rope. Garrick hauled his tool bag aboard and they started rowing for the
Orion
. The natives watched from the edge of the forest and began a strange little dance, stamping their feet and spears into the ground in unison. It was a menacing gesture. Evison’s response – a friendly wave and a promise to return – seemed out of place.

A handful of us remained. I couldn’t contain my curiosity. I asked Bel, ‘What did the Captain say to you?’

‘Told me he was sorry he couldn’t take me back on the boat just now,’ said Bel. ‘Said he needed every strong man he could get to haul the mast on to the ship.’ She seemed unconcerned. ‘Fair enough, I suppose.’

Lieutenant Hossack was among us. Evison obviously hadn’t forgiven his Lieutenant for the fight they had had that dark night. When the boat had sailed past hailing distance, he sat down in the sand. We looked at him expectantly for orders.

Eventually I spoke. ‘Shall we all go together, sir, to look for fruit, or in several parties?’

He looked bewildered. To our surprise he began complaining about what we had been asked to do. ‘Bloody waste of time,’ he said sourly. ‘Fruit for scurvy. What stuff and nonsense. It’s
work
that keeps the scurvy from men’s bones, not fruit.’

Then he turned to me and said, ‘Yes, off you go, Witchall. Take whoever will come with you. I shall stay here and summon you when the boat returns.’

It seemed an unnecessarily dangerous thing Evison had asked us to do. But maybe he did it to take our minds off our predicament. Off we went, Bel, Thomas Bagley and me. Bagley carried a pistol so we had some defence against any man-eating animal, but we had only powder for one shot, and I feared that would be best used to defend ourselves from the natives. We found mangoes and figs close by and I took off my shirt to make a cradle to carry them.

When we’d gathered all we could we returned to the edge of the beach. Hossack was there, crouching where the jungle ended and the sand began. A small party of
natives remained at the opposite end of the crescent beach. ‘They’ve not taken their eyes off me the whole time you’ve been gone,’ said the Lieutenant. I could hear the fear in his voice.

‘We shall wait here until the boat returns. Then we shall run to it as quickly as we can. I dare say that will be the cue for the natives to attack us.’

‘Why are they waiting?’ I asked. ‘Why don’t they just kill us?’

Hossack shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe they think they’ll surprise us all at once. Maybe they hope to seize our boat. Maybe they’re waiting for reinforcements. Maybe they’re afraid of our guns.’

So we waited. The sun rose to its zenith and I was grateful for the cover of the trees. We slaked our thirst on the fruit we had found. Fear gnawed at my gut. Bel was frightened too. As she sat in the sand, she clutched her arms tight across her stomach and rocked to and fro.

We were sat slightly away from the others and I asked her if she was disappointed about having to leave New South Wales. I thought it would take her mind off the waiting. She was surprisingly forthright.