In Search of El Dorado Part 33

"But why did you run away?" I asked hurriedly. "Surely an innocent man only courts disaster by flight."

The troopers were now near at hand. I could hear their sergeant talking to some of the diggers scarcely a hundred yards from where we stood.

English Bob recovered himself with an extreme effort of will. "I may have been foolish," he said quietly, "but things looked very black against me, and--and the disgrace would have killed my old mother."

I did not reason further. "There may be a way of escape yet," I said, seized with an uncontrollable impulse. "We are both very much alike.

I'll talk to the sergeant."

"No, no!" he cried, "I cannot allow----"

"Why, man," I interrupted impatiently, "it's your only chance. They'll find out their mistake soon enough."

"Good morning, boys," came a jovial voice from the timber, and its owner, a stalwart New Zealander, bearing the emblem of his office on his arm, rode forward alone. We responded to this cheery salutation gloomily.

"Why," he exclaimed, "you've struck a patch here. But I do wish you people would be more careful and take out licences before you start to dig. The Government is getting rather riled about your free-lance way of working."

"But we have licences," I remarked mildly.

He laughed. "I'm glad of that," he said, "for I find very few of your neighbours have thought it necessary, and my troopers seem to have the deuce of a job in explaining matters to them." He wheeled his horse, then reined up again suddenly, and came back. "Which of you is Robert Lorimer?" he said directly.

His method of procedure appeared to me unnecessarily cruel. "That's me,"

I answered sharply, before my companion could speak. "But couldn't you have asked at first?"

He stared at me wonderingly. "Great Southern Cross, man!" he cried.

"What!" He broke off in a long low whistle, and held out his hand. "Let me be the first to congratulate you, sir," he said. "Of course you could not have heard, but you needn't be so hard on me for all that. But let me tell my story," he continued, waving aside my interruptions. "I was instructed from headquarters to come for you officially seven days ago, but though I am a policeman I don't like the job of running any man to earth, and I delayed until I should have to come in any case to attend to the licence question. Only yesterday I was informed that the warrant was off, as the notes you were accused of stealing had been found in an old ledger, placed there, no doubt, by some careless clerk. That's all.

Good luck to you, my boy, and a safe journey home."

He was gone in an instant. Then English Bob and I clasped hands in silence.

WITH THE PEARLERS OF NORTH-WESTERN AUSTRALIA

On the north-western sh.o.r.es of Australia, between Cossack township and Port Darwin, lies a strip of coastline which has not yet received much attention from the outside world. This is the pearling-grounds of the Nor'-West, and the lordly pioneers who rule there hope that their preserves may long continue to be neglected by the check-suited globe-trotter. The headquarters of the pearling industry is at Broome, the landing station of one of the Australian cable systems. Broome, when the fleet is in port, has a population of about 1,500, which is made up of 200 white men, 800 Malays, 100 j.a.panese, and the same number of what are termed Manilamen, the remainder being a heterogeneous lot of aborigines, coolies, Kanakas, and specimens of almost every other race on earth. When the pearlers are out, however, the town is practically deserted.

Dampier was the first European to skirt this coast, but it was long after his advent that it became famous for its pearl-sh.e.l.l deposits, although, even before the great explorer's time, it was probably known to the aborigines, who until recently were in the habit of gathering for food the bivalves that the monsoon storms threw up on the beach. But since the days of Dampier many changes have occurred on these desolate sh.o.r.es, and it is even doubtful if the coast has the same configuration now as it had then. While the eastern states of Australia were still struggling for existence, the fierce Malay pirates reigned here, and indeed it is only lately that it has been freed from all suspicion in that respect, although the pirates may not always have been the Malays.

The early sea-rovers were not long in finding out that it would pay them to give some attention to the treasures of the sea, and it is probably owing to their efforts that Roebuck Bay and the Ninety-Mile beach came into prominence as pearling-grounds. From that time up to about twenty years ago these individuals worked the sh.o.r.es and shallows by various methods peculiar to themselves, the chief consisting of forcing the unfortunate aborigines to dive for the sh.e.l.ls while they merely extracted the pearls.

This system ceased suddenly so far as the power of the Malays was concerned; for towards the end of the 'Seventies some colonial adventurers sailed up the coast from Fremantle, and although little is officially known as to what then transpired, pearling shortly afterwards became a recognised profession among our colonial cousins. Some of those pioneers are still engaged in the trade, and many strange stories are told of their doings before the light of civilisation, in the shape of telegraphic communication, was let in upon their coast.

At present, taken as they stand, the pearlers of the Nor'-West are one of the wealthiest bodies of men in the world. They are certainly one of the most daring and most hospitable, and do not hesitate to share their wealth with any unlucky comrades. The methods in vogue now are much different from those employed twenty years ago. Beach-combing and enforced labour have given place to specially-designed luggers, profit-sharing systems, and the most modern diving-dresses, although among the South Pacific Islands beach-combing is still another name for piracy and slave-raiding. Strangely enough, the pearls do not now form the chief support of the industry. Nevertheless, some are frequently found worth 100 and upwards, and many of a value of 10, while from that sum downwards to 1s. for a thousand the pearls are very plentiful.

The sh.e.l.l, however, is now the backbone of the industry. It is valued at from 100 to 180 per ton, and finds ready sale through Singapore agencies of London firms at anything between those prices.

The pearler of the present day is a Briton in every sense of the word, and takes great care to impress that fact upon all who visit his domain.

He usually owns the lugger he commands, but in some cases he has only a share in it and its profits, the real owner being a speculative gentleman who resides in his schooner and pays only occasional visits to the various luggers under his flag. In some of these deputy-managed craft the only qualification necessary to obtain the position of skipper or commander is that of being a white man and not a German; but when the master pearler goes to the British port of Singapore he is invariably forced to "come down a bit," and do his business with the prosperous and well-satisfied sons of the Fatherland.

Pearling is chiefly carried on in what are termed "proved grounds"; but if a good haul be made at any time the pearler is not averse to prospecting for new grounds (waters). As a rule the commander is the only white man on board the lugger. The crew is composed of Malays and coolies, but the diver is always an intelligent Manilaman or Filipino, who receives a small commission on the results of his work. The depth at which the sh.e.l.l is found is now about sixteen fathoms. Of course shallower ledges are still worked, but it is considered that they are almost exhausted, and few pearlers waste time over them. In working, the diver is lowered over the gunwale by means of a winch, or in some cases dropped over unceremoniously by two of the Malay crew, and another two pump air down to him.

These people are always quarrelling among themselves, and consequently the diver runs many risks he does not at the time know of, unless he guesses what is happening above when he experiences the sensations attending the stoppage of his air supply. He is accustomed to such trifles, however, and being more or less a fatalist, probably wonders what the men at the pumps are quarrelling about, and in a disinterested sort of way speculates on which of his two pumpsmen will prove the weaker, and accordingly feed the sharks with him. Notwithstanding the uncertainty of life, he gathers all the sh.e.l.ls within his limited range of vision, and when--if not too late--the men aloft stop fighting, he is hauled to the gunwale, where he is relieved of his spoil and dropped over again.

The sh.e.l.ls are found in patches, and when one deposit is exhausted--or perhaps before, for the vessel is drifting all the time--the diver moves on to the next, crashing through dense forests of coral and other strange submarine growths _en route_, and frequently having to cut the fearful coiling creepers from his person. Often, too, he is precipitated into a deep, dark chasm of unknown extent. In such moments the diver's sole idea is to preserve his balance, for he is really but a feather-weight in the water at the sixteen-fathom level, and in due time he is safely hauled across the gulf, when, if he has not retained a vertical position, or if his line has not been kept taut overhead, he is dragged head-first through any vegetation or oozy slime that may lie in his path. When he regains his equilibrium, he once more turns his attention to the oyster-beds.

[Ill.u.s.tration: READY TO GO DOWN.]

Meanwhile the lugger drifts erratically over the surface of the ocean.

An evil-eyed Malay may be asleep by the tiller, and the white commander will likewise be serenely indifferent to his surroundings, unless the thought strikes him that the quality of the last case of whisky he had was not in accordance with the labels on the bottles or the price he paid, in which event he will probably be making things lively among the crew, and the profits of the trip will increase in proportion. Every fifteen minutes or so the diver comes up for a "blow." If the sh.e.l.ls are plentiful he may send them up in a net between times; but, as a rule, there are a few yards separating the sh.e.l.ls of any size, and it is not often that he cannot bring them all aloft with him. A "blow" to this individual means being suspended over the gunwale with his helmet unscrewed for such time as the lugger may take to sail to the next known patch, after which he is allowed to drop again.

When a full cargo of sh.e.l.l has been obtained, the lugger's course is shaped towards Broome, where the molluscs are opened in sheds erected for the purpose. In the cases of the pearlers who possess several luggers a schooner is sent round periodically to collect the sh.e.l.l from the smaller craft, thus saving the latter a journey which they are ill able to accomplish, owing to their peculiar design and extremely small freeboard. The process of opening is sometimes carried on while the schooner sails for Broome; but, as most of the pearler kings make their homes on board these vessels now, and do not care to suffer the attending unpleasantness, the system is fast dying out, and the schooner, in turn, discharges at the Broome opening-sheds.

The methods of opening are many. In the early days the sh.e.l.ls were torn apart with a knife or any other convenient weapon, and if no pearls rewarded a brief search, the carca.s.s of the oyster was scooped out and left to rot on the sand until a merciful monsoon tide caused its removal. Lately, however, the pearlers have copied the plan of the Chinese beachcombers of the Archipelago, and a simpler system could not well be devised. The sh.e.l.ls are laid on a slightly-inclined bench, at the lowest edge of which is a carefully-constructed ledge containing some water in the angle formed. After two days in this position the oyster "gapes" and "spits out" the pearl--if any--which, of course, rolls down the bench until it is caught in the angle, from where it is gathered by the attendant j.a.panese or coolies. The number of pearls obtained in this way is about 30 per cent. greater than was formerly the case by the forcible method, and it is therefore evident that the hasty pearlers must have lost a considerable amount through their carelessness and the incompleteness of their method of extraction. As said before, the pearls do not now form the chief part of the business; nevertheless there are usually a fair number in the sh.e.l.ls discharged from one schooner. When the pearls have been collected the molluscs are cleaned out from the sh.e.l.ls and either buried or otherwise destroyed, their late casings being stored to await shipment. The chief opening establishments are owned by a London syndicate of jewellers, who employ in their service as many aborigines, coolies, and j.a.panese as may care to offer themselves. This syndicate is always willing to purchase "on chance" any shipment of sh.e.l.l that may come into port, and have a large fleet of their own luggers constantly on the waters during the season. As might be expected, this organised company is not liked by the independent pearlers, who--rightly or not--imagine that a monopoly of the trade is the real object in view. To such an extent is this rivalry carried that, notwithstanding the fact that Messrs. S. & Co. have special facilities for shipping, and will pay full Singapore prices for all sh.e.l.ls sold to them, the pearlers, unless temporarily financially embarra.s.sed, will have nothing to do with them, and prefer to pay the expense of shipping their own sh.e.l.l to Singapore by some of the Holt Line of steamers, which call regularly in at Broome for that purpose while _en route_ from Fremantle to the great Oriental metropolis.

During the monsoon season the pearling fleet shelters in Roebuck Bay, on the sh.o.r.es of which Broome stands, and then that wicked and evil-smelling township wakens up from its sleep. Its drinking saloons are crowded with black, yellow, and white humanity; the joss-houses are filled with maddened nondescripts; and the far-seeing abilities and correct judgment of the man who designed the prison to hold the entire population becomes apparent. Unfortunately there are some renegade whites who run gambling-h.e.l.ls; but, in justice to Britons at large, it should be stated that these men are mostly mongrel foreigners. The master pearlers, as a rule, do not frequent these places, preferring the narrower but healthier confines of their own vessels to that of the filthy, mosquito-infested town; but if any do go ash.o.r.e, they all meet in a saloon owned by a gentleman with a very Highland name and dusky countenance, or in the cable-house, where fortunes may be gambled away in a night. These men are indifferent to this matter. Money, to most of them, has no attractions, and if they were denied the excitement of being alternately worth a fair fortune and without a sixpence in their possession they would probably die of _ennui_. But some of the pearlers--indeed, the majority--are made of sterner stuff; they still retain memories of lands where green vegetation and flowing streams of crystal water take the place of hideous mangrove swamps and parching deserts, and their efforts are all made in the hope that some day the results will enable them to return to those lands. These men only come into Broome when in need of stores, and, after landing their crews, spend the "off" season in some of the numerous bays and inlets farther north, occasionally finding rich patches in those sheltered sounds capable of being worked at all seasons.

It matters little on this coast what the original temperament of any person may have been, the influence of his surroundings soon has its effect upon him and makes him like his fellows. With the pearlers this takes the form of a feeling of reckless indifference, and a stranger suddenly thrown among them sees much to interest and amuse him in the incongruities brought about by this state of affairs.

When I visited this quarter I was not aware that there was any special industry carried on; in fact, I did not even know that a township existed between Roebourne and Derby until one evening the SS. _Nemesis_ sailed into Roebuck Bay, and the skipper calmly announced that I would require to go ash.o.r.e and await the next steamer, as he was going no farther. I was booked to London, _via_ Singapore, but I had expected to be dumped ash.o.r.e somewhere, as the _Nemesis_ was not the regular connecting steamer, and I had taken it chiefly with the desire to get away from plague-stricken Fremantle, to which city I had come round from Northern Queensland.

"All right, captain," I said; "but you might give me my bearings first."

"Go straight ahead from the jetty until you see the cable station, then starboard hard, and you are into Roderick's Hotel. Drinks don't cost more than a shilling there."

"Thanks. But what is the name of the port? I presume we are still in Australia?"

"We are. This is Broome, the headquarters of the pearling fleet, and the hottest hole on earth."

"Oh, I think I'll survive till the _Australind_ comes along," I said, as indifferently as I could; and, after seeing my baggage on sh.o.r.e, I followed out the captain's directions, and finally entered a well-lit saloon, in which the strains of a gramaphone were evidently causing much appreciation. No one seemed to notice me as I made my way forward. All the occupants were cl.u.s.tered round the gramaphone and indulging in various comments as to the correctness of the song it was giving forth.

There were about ten men in the party, all of whom were white. Some were garbed in the most approved London clubland fashion, while others were very scantily clad indeed; but the careless manner in which handfuls of sovereigns were occasionally flung down on the counter showed that money at least was not much of a consideration with any of them.

"Hallo, boys! here's a stranger," suddenly cried one, seeing me looking on interestedly, and instantly a general move was made in my direction.

"Name it, boss," spoke the bar-tender, coming forward; "that is, if you is not an S----'s man."

"What will happen if I am?" I inquired, slightly curious to know what an S----'s man was.

"You'll get fired; that's all----"

"Shut up, Bob," reproved a tall, broad-shouldered man. "This is the master-pearlers' club," he continued, addressing me, "and as a stranger you are very welcome to whatever it affords."

"Thank you, but I understood that this was Roderick's Hotel?"

"Same thing," laughed several of the men. "Who sent you here?"

"Captain Lawrence of the _Nemesis_."

"Then it's all O.K. He is one of us," said the first speaker. "You will be my guest to-night, after which we will consider what is best to do with you."

"Gently there; I am a Britisher, and quite able to look after myself."