Pals: Young Australians in Sport and Adventure
*CHAPTER XXVIII*
*THE CAMP BY THE SEA*
"Bright skies of summer o'er the deep, And soft salt air along the land, The blue wave, lisping in its sleep, Sinks gently on the yellow sand; And grey-winged seagulls slowly sweep O'er scattered bush and white-limbed tree, Where the red cliffs like bastions stand To front the salvos of the sea, Now lulled by its own melody." GEORGE ESSEX EVANS.
"And now, boys, what about the camping-out project? I see no reason whyyou shouldn't carry out your little plan, now all danger's removed;indeed, I should love you to have the jaunt. Who were going?"
The boys could hardly believe the good news, it was so sudden.
"Us three, and Denny, if father could spare him, mother," was Sandy'sremark.
"Oh, ye can tak' the laddie. He's due for a holiday, onyway. So'sHarry, for that matter. I can do wi'oot 'em for a spell."
Harry was nothing loth, and entered into the scheme with considerableenthusiasm. As an old bushman he was able to give good advice in thematter of camping-out requirements, and was later to render signalservice by which a life was saved.
Behold the party, early the next morning, accoutred and ready for theroad; making, as they held their steeds, quite an imposing cavalcade.Two stout roadsters were requisitioned for packing purposes; for thematernal solicitude of Mrs. Mac was both prolific and varied, judged bythe articles of food and service which she forced upon the travellers.
The squatter's pawky humour found ample scope for indulgence. Heexpressed a hope that "the pairty would keep a guid look oot for traceso' the lost Leichhardt expeedetion; and look oot for alleegaitors whenye strike the Gulf o' Carpeentairia."
The girls, too, indulged in good-humoured banter, raising hearty laughsagainst the boys, in which the victims joined as lustily as any.
Said Maggie, striking a grandmotherly attitude, "There are three thingsI would warn you against, boys; damp socks, draughts, and earwigs.Don't leave out the flour when mixing the damper. Have you packed thetape measure, Sandy?"
"Tape measure! What in the name of Madge Wildfire do you mean?"
"Why," cried Jessie, breaking in, "to measure the giant jew fish thatwill snap Joe's line as he is in the very act of landing it."
"Whatcher givin' us, Jess?"
"It will also come in handy," continued the saucy girl, turning on Tom,"to record the girth, length, and throat capacity of the monster snakethat you, Tom, are sure to see when roaming alone in the scrub."
"That's one for your nob, Tom!"
"Your turn next, Sandy," retorted that youth.
"Then there's the 'old-man' kangaroo that me brither Sandy will shootat, missing by 'just an hair's-breadth,' of course, and which he willdeclare--when he returns to camp--to be as 'high as one of those extinctmammals that Simpson has in his natural history book'; at any rate as'big as Bullocky Bill's off side poler.'"
"But, Miss Jessie, how wud th' bhoys put th' measure on th'----?"
"As for Dennis Kineavy," continued the sprite, "he will be sure to runinto a group of mermaa-des, when diving in the deep blue sa-ay, who willbe discussing the all-important question of waist measurement. AsDenny's an expert in fairies and hobgoblins, he will be appointed judgeand referee."
So, amid laughter and banter, and final good-byes, the gay party startfor the Bay.
Neville was prevented from joining them through important businessinterests in Sydney. The "call" of the bush, however, was strong andinsistent, and, as he bade farewell, he announced his determination ofreturning at no long date to settle as a landholder.
The road to the Bay passed within a short distance of the caves, and,despite the news of the tragic end of Ben Bolt, the lads, as they joggedpast the neighbourhood, were unable to rid themselves of a feeling thatthe outlaw still lurked about his old haunt, and felt relieved when theyhad left this region behind them.
The journey to the Bay proved uneventful save in one particular. Inmounting a very steep incline, the cinch strap, that formed the finalfastening of the pack on one of the animals, broke, whereupon thepack-saddle, being loosely girthed, worked backwards. Some of thecontents, also, fell to the ground, frightening the horse, who boltedalong the road, parting with sundry utensils and eatables, which linedthe track for some distance at irregular intervals. The frightenedsteed was at length secured, the wreckage gathered and replaced--thistime more securely--and the journey resumed.
The Bay is reached without further mishap or adventure. After coastingit for some little space the party cast anchor, in seamen's parlance, ona miniature promontory which jutted for a furlong or so into the watersof the Bay, forming a grassy, treeless plateau throughout its area. Theadvantage of this site was apparent to the group of campers, inasmuch asthe foreshores of the Bay were covered for the most part with a stuntedscrub that extended to the beach. The advantage was twofold: itobviated the necessity of clearing a space for the tents, and it wascomparatively free from bush vermin.
To the southern part of the Bay, distant some six miles, was the PilotStation; while towards the northern extremity, where a large creekdebouched into the sea, was a camp of cedar-getters. Otherwise, in itsshore vicinity, the Bay was uninhabited.
Two hours of daylight yet remained, and the members of the party madeinstant preparation for pitching camp. The necessary tent poles and pegswere speedily secured from the neighbouring scrub, and, under thedirection of the experienced stockman, willing hands are busily engagedin the erection.
The bigger tent was set upon a ridge pole that rested in the forks oftwo upright saplings which had been firmly fixed in the ground. Whenthe requisite number of pegs had been hammered into the ground, the tentwas hauled taut by cords passed through eyelet holes at intervals alongeach side, and about thirty inches from the bottom. This under sectionof the tent assumed a perpendicular position, forming the walls, whichwere secured by the same method. This formed the pals' cover, while thesmaller tent sufficed for the other two. A rough shed formed of fouruprights, with a brushwood roof, held the provisions and saddles.
So expeditiously were all these arrangements made that ere the darknessfell they were completed, and Denny--who was promoted to the responsibleposition of cook--was building a fire for tea-making purposes. Meanwhilethe horses were led to a small, freshwater lagoon in the vicinity, wherethey were belled and short-hobbled, and left to browse on the succulentgrass. The last act of preparation was that of cutting a quantity ofgum bushes for bedding. No sweeter or healthier bed can be contrivedthan a layer of fragrant eucalyptus leaves. The beds had scarcely beenmade ere the welcome summons to supper came, in the Irish boy's bestbrogue: "Jintilmen, will yees come to ta-ay?"
There is a charm peculiar to an evening meal taken in the open. Thecharm is heightened in the present instance by the contiguity of thesea. The youths dine to the musical accompaniment of the rolling waves,which strike the beach in deep, muffled thunder-tone, rising crescendofashion as they race to a finish along the shelly incline. Then,landward, are the insistent noises of the things of the forest. Everand anon the soft tinkle-tinkle of "The horse-bell's melody remote" isto be heard as the cropping animals move over the lush grass. Theillimitable dome above is alive with sparkling lights. Thus anenvironment is created which gives a sacramental aspect to the feast.At least it forms a romantic picture which centres in the fire-lit facesof the happy, care-free youths.
Supper ended, they eagerly discuss their projects, the while they cleantheir guns and fix the fishing tackle.
On the morn, at earliest dawn, they will try likely spots for fish, andhave a swim in the briny. And now the slow movements of the tongue,with frequent yawns, proclaim the nightly toll which nature is wont toexact.
Ere the pale dawn is flushed the pals, sleep banished, half-dressed,tongues wagging, trudge along the beach to the rocky point of thepromontory, stopping here and there at likely places to dig in the sandfor whelks
, which make capital bait. The water is fairly deep where thenose of the promontory marks the terminal point, and soon lines areunwound, hooks are baited, and practised hands fling the lead-weightedhempen cords far into the Bay. Fair success rewards their efforts.Sandy's line hardly reached the bottom ere he experienced the delightfulthrill of a fierce tug, followed by a smart, strong rush which betokeneda good fish. After a few minutes' play he landed a fine specimen ofblack bream, scaling over two pounds.
Sandy and Tom had varying luck with black and white bream, andflat-head. Joe, however, was out of it. He did, indeed, have a giganticbite soon after Sandy had captured his first fish. The line whizzedthrough his fingers with a rush that skinned them as he began to take apull. When the line had reached its limit it snapped like a piece ofpack-thread. The biter was either a young shark or a big jew fish.After this no fish troubled the boy. His mates struck their fish atfrequent intervals, while his line remained motionless. After a time hewound up and left his companions. Retracing his steps some distancealong the beach, he halted at a shelving rock that ran out into thewater. It looked a likely spot, and he determined to try with a lighterline than the one he had been using. Baiting his hook with a soldiercrab, he made a cast, and almost immediately had a bite, hauling in ablack-back whiting. It was a good specimen, weighing at least a pound.He had good sport for about half an hour, catching in all about a dozenwhiting and half a dozen soles.
The sport began to slacken about an hour after sunrise, and the pals,having captured sufficient for the day's requirement, set to work andcleaned their catches. This task finished, they have a plunge in thesparkling and cool waters of the Bay.
Meanwhile Harry attended to the horses, and did little jobs about thecamp, whilst Denny devoted his attention to the preparation of thebreakfast. The lads returned in due course with the spoils of the sea,and with appetites as keen as a razor. In a few minutes the pan is fullof sizzling fish, which are presently transferred to a hot dish, and thepan is filled with a fresh lot.
"Goin' to try 'nuther panful, Denny?" said Tom, when the second lot hadbeen demolished.
"Anuther pan! Howly Moses! div yees hear him! Och, thin, me bhoy, ye'dsoon rise th' price ov fish. Not anuther scrap will Oi cook f'r yees.Oi've kep' th' rest f'r dinner? Sure, if we go on loike this 'twill beFridah ivry da'; glory be!"
The morning was devoted to a go-as-you-please programme, in which therewas much disporting in the water; even the juvenile pastime of buildingcastles in the sand was not considered _infra dig_.
In the afternoon the whole party set out for Schnapper Point. It was onthis spot that the fond expectations of the lads were centred. It wasreputed to be the best fishing ground in the extensive Bay, and owed itsname to the fact that school-schnapper frequented its vicinity. Aschnapper trip--taken as a rule in a small steamer--is voted one of thefinest outings by Australian sportsmen. This highly prized fish, be itsaid, is known variously, according to its age and changing habits. Itoften attains large dimensions, weighing up to thirty pounds.
None of the party had previously visited the Point. Their great concernwas to find out if suitable bait could be procured in its neighbourhood.The principal bait was a small species of whiting. These, theydiscovered, were to be obtained without much trouble on shelly patchesalong the beach.
Early next morning the campers are astir, and busily engaged innecessary preparations. After a hearty breakfast, in which the cornedround and the spiced beef are conspicuous features, behold the youngsports jogging along the beach towards Schnapper Point. A stoppage ismade at the whiting patch, where the fishermen are kept going for anhour with very fine lines. By this time they have secured about twohundred small fish as bait.
And now, having arrived at the fishing ground, leaving Harry and Dennyto attend to the horses, the pals, all eager for the promised sport,unwind their heavy schnapper lines, and prepare for the catch.
It was agreed that the boys were to fish, while Harry, who voted fishinga bore, and was devoted to the gun, would scour the adjacent scrub forbirds, and the forest beyond for kangaroo; Denny having promised theboys a "foine boilin'" of kangaroo-tail soup. To quote the actual wordsin which he preferred his request--"If Harry wud shute wan iv thimfellas as hops wid their ta-ales, and carries their childre in theirpockets,[#] Oi, wud ma-ake sich a soup as niver was."
[#] The natural pouch of the marsupial for bearing its young.
The shooter, armed with a fowling-piece and a short rifle, afterattending to the horses, disappeared in the scrub in search of game.Meanwhile the fishers, having cast their lines, assume an expectantattitude.
To their great disappointment there are no bites; not even thestimulating nibble. The patience of these amateurs is sorely tried. Awhole hour passes without the slightest sensation of a bite. Lines arecast and recast. The fishermen move to and fro, to no useful purpose.
"Well, of all the rotten frauds of places for fishin', this takes thebun! Dash it! we'd better have stayed at the camp an' fished there. Atleast we'd----"
"Howld yer whisht, bhoys!" said Denny in an excited whisper. "Oi'm jistgoin' to git a boite; th' line's thrimblin' sure. Faith 'tis a Dutchmansmellin' the ray-shons, Oi'm thinkin'."
"It's not a schnapper, if that's what you mean by a Dutchman. Nonibblin' about a schnapper, Denny. More likely a crab."
"By Saint Michael! Joe, div yes call that a crab? Be dad, thin, it's abig sa-ay whale, or maybe one iv thim mare-mades Miss Jassie warned meaginst. Be th' hokey, th' loine's cuttin' me fingers!"
The line, which for a minute or two had given faint twitches, and a fewpremonitory shakes, now suddenly whizzed through the Irish boy'sfingers.
"Take a pull on her, an' steady her!" cried Sandy. "You'll lose fish an'line, too, if you're not mighty smart."
Denny thereupon made a "brake" of his fingers, which steadied the fishafter it had run out about fifty yards or so of the line. He began tohaul it as if it were attached to a sulky calf. The fish was a heavyone, and a fighter; but what Denny lacked in skill he made up instrength. Fortunately for the angler the line was stout and new, or itwould surely have snapped in the struggle. By sheer strength the fishis drawn to land.