A short piece of historical fiction on the search for explorers Robert O'Hara Burke, William John Wills and John King from the ill-fated Burke and Wills expedition.
“We’ve already been journeying for five weeks and haven’t found a trace,” grumbled Jack.
“Our goal is to find them, or what happened to them,” I replied, “And we’re going to keep on until we do or till we walk off the edge of the earth.”
“But it’s so hot, we’ve already eaten through half of our supplies and the pack horse has a lame hoof.”
“That can’t be helped. Cooper Creek is just ahead where we should find some evidence to assist us.”
“Humf!” Jack sighed.
I turned to Jabba, the Aboriginal who was accompanying us. I knew we could never starve while we had him among us. When we arrived at the ‘Dig’ tree, Jack struck the brilliant idea of digging there. Sure enough, we found a note, handwritten by Wills and a stack of his diaries. Besides this treasure, we had reached our prime destination.
“I call this a good day’s work boys! Let’s put down here.”
That night, as we were singing ‘round the campfire, an Aboriginal stepped out of the bushes. Cautiously, he approached, nervously slinking like a cat. When he noticed Jabba, he seemed to relax. Jabba stopped singing and jumped up with delight. They excitedly began conversing in their native tongue. Once they had finished, the Aboriginal retreated to the bushes and Jabba sat down once more. By now we were all extremely curious about what they were discussing.
“He my cousin. Say be one white fellow from three. Not know where he be.”
“Well, unless we intend to find that one, our mission is complete!” Jack finished triumphantly.
“Yes,” I had to admit. We had discovered what we hoped to set out for, but who was that one? And where could he be? Now that we’d come this far, it would be a pity to return empty-handed.
“Boys,” I hesitated while I formed my plan, “we shall search for this man for three more weeks.”
“Aww, do we have to?”
“Yes, Jack. It’s our Christian duty.”
As I pored over Wills’ diaries, I gathered that the remaining man was probably King, since he was the one in best health. I figured that he would have set off south. So that’s where we went. Arduously, we zig zagged south enduring sun and sand and scrub. After fourteen more tiring days, the slog of travelling in such a harsh environment began to show in earnest.
Our team travelled along a ridge, from where we hoped to glimpse rising smoke from King’s fire. On the fifteenth day, our efforts were rewarded. But as we neared the fire, we were greeted by a mob of stout, warring Aborigines. With spear in hand, they approached. I noticed that Jabba was deliberately staying at the back of our expedition.
“Careful now,” I began, but suddenly I caught a glimpse of cream-coloured skin in the midst of them.
“King?”
My heart felt as if it would burst with joy, however I proceeded with caution. King made some gestures to the tribe, then hobbled forward leaning on a man’s arm. We heartily shook hands. Whatever King had communicated to the Aborigines was being passed from mouth to mouth and each man in turn suddenly appeared more friendly when he heard it.
After a hearty dinner of lizard stew, we exchanged stories round the fire and slept beneath the stars. In the morning, the Aborigines assisted us in preparing King to travel home with us. Generously, they restocked our food supplies. But something was wrong with King.
Although he was a good deal stronger than he had been, he still didn’t feel capable of the trek home on foot.
“Goodbye my friend,” I began, “As soon as we return, I shall send up another expedition with horses that can carry you. Just ensure that the tribe stays right here, and you’ll be home in a month.”
We shook hands once more.
Not only had we completed our goal, but King would return home to be hailed a hero.
“I suppose he was worth all that effort,” muttered Jack.
“I should think so!”
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