Part 72 (1/2)
”That is the Tartar; yes. We were caught in the gale last night, and we lay-to. This morning, as soon as we recognised the Cape, we determined to run for this cove, where we have been before. We had an anxious night last night, I a.s.sure you. We have been terribly lucky. If the wind had veered a few more points to the east, we should have been done for. We never could have beaten off in such a sea as this.”
”Are you going to Sydney?”
”No; we are in chase of a boat full of escaped convicts from Launceston. Cunning dogs; they would not land in the Straits. We missed them and got across to Port Phillip, and put Captain D---- and his black police on the alert; and they have got scent of it, and coasted up north. We have examined the coast all along, but I am afraid they have given us the slip; there is such a system of intelligence among them. However, if they had not landed before last night, they have saved us all trouble; and if they are ash.o.r.e we wash our hands of them, and leave them to the police.”
Halbert and Sam looked at one another. Then the former said,--
”Last night, about an hour before it came on to blow, we saw a boat making for this very headland, which puzzled us exceedingly; and, what was stranger still, we saw a man on the Cape, who seemed to be on the look-out.”
”That is quite possible,” replied the mids.h.i.+pman; ”these fellows have a queer system of communication. The boat you saw must certainly have been them; and if they landed at all they must have landed here.”
I must change the scene here, if you please, my dear reader, and get you to come with me on board his (I beg pardon, her) Majesty's s.h.i.+p Tartar for a few minutes, for on the quarter-deck of that n.o.ble sloop there are at this moment two men worth rescuing from oblivion.
The first is a stoutish, upright, middle-aged man, in a naval uniform, with a brickdust complexion, and very light scanty whiskers; the jolliest, cheeriest-looking fellow you are likely to meet in a year's journey. Such a bright merry blue eye as he has, too! This is Captain Blockstrop, now, I am happy to say, C.B.; a right valiant officer, as the despatches of Lyons and Peel will testify.
The other is a very different sort of man;--a long, wiry, brown-faced man, with a big forehead, and a comical expression about his eyes. This is no less a person than the Colonial Secretary of one of our three great colonies: of which I decline to mention. Those who know the Honourable Abiram Pollifex do not need to be told; and those who do not must find out for themselves. I may mention that he has been known to retain office seven years in succession, and yet he seldom threatens to resign his office and throw himself upon the country fewer than three times, and sometimes four, per annum. Latterly, I am sorry to say, a miserable faction, taking advantage of one of his numerous resignations, have a.s.sumed the reins of government, and, in spite of three votes of want of confidence, persist in retaining the seals of office. Let me add to this, that he is considered the best hand at quiet ”chaff” in the House, and is allowed, both by his supporters and opponents, to be an honourable man, and a right good fellow.
Such were the two men who now stood side by side on the quarter-deck, looking eagerly at Sam and Halbert through a pair of telescopes.
”Pollifex,” said the Captain, ”what do you make of these?”
”Gentlemen,” said the Secretary, curtly.
”So I make out,” said the Captain; ”and apparently in good condition, too. A very well fed man that biggest, I should say.”
”Ye-es; well, ye-es,” said the Secretary; ”he does look well-fed enough. He must be a stranger to these parts; probably from the Maneroo plains, or thereabout.”
”What makes you think so?”
”Dear me,” said the Secretary; ”have you been stationed nearly three years on this coast, and ask how a man could possibly be in good condition living in those scrubby heaths?”
”Bad-looking country; eh?” said the Captain.
”Small cattle-stations, sir,” said the Secretary, ”I can see at a glance. Salt beef, very tough, and very little of it. I shall run a bill through the House for the abolition of small cattle-stations next session.”
”Better get your estimates through first, old fellow. The bagpipes will play quite loud enough over them to last for some time.”
”I know it, but tremble not,” replied the undaunted Secretary; ”I have got used to it. I fancy I hear Callaghan beginning now: 'The unbridled prodigality, sir, and the reckless profligacy, sir, of those individuals who have so long, under the name of government----'”
”That'll do, now,” said the Captain; ”you are worse than the reality. I shall go ash.o.r.e, and take my chance of getting breakfast. Will you come?”
”Not if I know it, sir, with pork chops for breakfast in the cabin.
Blockstrop, have you duly reflected what you are about to do? You are about to land alone, unarmed, unprovisioned, among the offscourings of white society, scarcely superior in their habits of life to the nomadic savages they have unjustly displaced. Pause and reflect, my dear fellow. What guarantee have you that they will not propose to feed you on damper, or some other nameless abomination of the same sort?”
”It was only the other day, in the House,” said the Captain, ”that you said the small squatters and freehold farmers represented the greater part of the intelligence and education of the colony, and now----”
”Sir! sir!” said the Secretary, ”you don't know what you are talking about. Sir, we are not in the House now. Are you determined, then?”