Prison Ship (21 page)

Now I could see the fire ahead of me and silhouettes of people around it. It was them all right. As I approached my foot snapped a branch and Barrie grabbed his pistol and fired into the darkness. The shot hit a tree trunk above my head, showering me with splinters.

‘It's me, you idiot,' I shouted.

Richard cried out, ‘Sam!' I could hear the relief in his voice. He ran up and hugged me. ‘We thought we'd lost you. Come and have some duck.' He handed me a leg of roast meat. As I crunched into the fatty blackened skin, juice ran down the side of my mouth. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.

‘I called for you all afternoon, Sam,' said Richard. ‘I heard you shouting once or twice, but I could never make out where your voice was coming from. I'm amazed you didn't hear me.'

As I ate I realised neither Barrie nor Bell had said anything. ‘Well good evening to you too,' I said with some irritation. ‘Who else did you think it could be, out here in the middle of nowhere?'

Barrie leered at me through the flickering light of the fire. ‘Thought we'd lost you for good, Samuel. Mr Bell and me were looking forward to your portion of duck.
But young Buckley 'ere's been guarding it jealously. If you'd come ten minutes later, you'd have been too late.'

Richard spoke up. ‘Caught the thing late this afternoon. Whole party of them came into land on the river and sailed right up to us. Mr Barrie waded in but they all started to peck him. I leapt in and grabbed one by the neck while it was distracted. You make fine duck bait, Mr Barrie!'

Barrie gave a sardonic little smile. Bell tried to be friendly. No doubt he was still worried that his injured ankle would be holding us up. ‘I called out for you too, Sam,' he said. ‘But we heard nothing back.' Richard looked at him is disbelief. ‘I'll bet you did,' I thought.

In the morning light I noticed how filthy we were. Our clothes and shoes in tatters, our bodies caked in dirt. As we set off, hunger returned. ‘Sooner we reach the coast, the better,' said Richard. ‘Then we can have clams and oysters for breakfast, and a nice fat fish for tea.'

That morning the wind picked up, and clouds began to form in the blue sky. Soon a gale was howling through the trees, and we had to hang our blankets around our shoulders as we walked. Bell was limping badly, and I could tell his injured ankle was causing him pain. When we stopped for a rest he lifted his trouser leg to look at it. The yellow and green bruising around the wound had spread and the gash made by the shackle was livid and weeping.

It began to rain soon after noon. Great sheets hammered down, soaking us and our blankets. The rest of the day brought only misery. Progress was slow and we argued bitterly about whether or not to take shelter. Barrie was finally persuaded that it would be better to conserve our dwindling strength than press on until dark. We found another cave and tried to light a fire. But everything in the forest was now so wet it would not catch alight. It was a wretched, miserable night. Sleep was impossible and the morning brought only more rain. One look at the sky told us it was set to stay like this for the day.

We walked on, chilled to the marrow, too miserable to speak. Only Barrie's voice could be heard, cursing at Bell to keep up with us. He was getting slower every day. After a while, a numb indifference to the world seemed to come over me, and the hunger and the cold receded. It was not until the afternoon that the rain stopped, but the clouds stayed and the sun did not appear to dry the woods around us.

That night there was no cave and we were too tired to walk further to look for one. We rested in the low boughs of trees as we could not bring ourselves to lie on the wet ground. But as sleep claimed us, one by one, we would fall from our perches, and wake with a painful jolt. Barrie's temper grew worse and all three of us tried not to speak to him so as to avoid a tongue-lashing. We could
only wrap our arms around ourselves and shiver.

I did sleep that night, in fits and starts, but only because my bones were so weary I could have slept through a battle. We were all awake to watch the dawn and set off as soon as it was light enough to see the ground before us. Richard and me led the way, Barrie and Bell trailed behind.

‘I thought he was trying to kill me, when he fired the other night,' I said. ‘Yes,' said Richard. ‘They didn't seem worried about you. “Less mouths to feed,” Barrie kept saying to himself.'

‘The sooner we find something to eat, the sooner we'll feel better,' said Richard. Talk of food made my stomach contract into a little ball. Finding some red berries, I picked one to taste.

‘Careful now,' said Richard. ‘Crush it in your hand and smell it first.' I did, on the tip of my finger and thumb. The berry was not moist, and broke down to a paste. I placed the tip of my tongue on the mush and recoiled with disgust. The taste was so bitter it burned my tongue and lodged in the back of my throat. Barrie and Bell caught up with us to see me retching, hands on knees. Barrie grabbed the berries at once. ‘You can't fool me with your antics,' he said, and stuffed them in his mouth. The berries came out as quickly as they had gone in.

‘What the hell did you do that for?' said Richard, aghast.

‘Thought you were playin' a game,' said Barrie, between sputters, ‘to keep me and Mr Bell away from food.'

The taste of that single berry stayed in my mouth for the rest of the morning, until we found a muddy stream swollen with the recent rain, and I drank down the cloudy water. I kept thinking what Barrie's mouth must have tasted like, and tried not to smile.

By noon our hunger was so intense we could think of nothing but food. The sun came out, and in the early afternoon we stopped by a large rock to spread our blankets to dry. As Richard and I lay there in the sunshine soaking up the warmth, Barrie came over to us. ‘I'm going looking for food, and Mr Bell is gathering wood for a fire. You two can make yerselves useful an' all. Meet back here and see what we've got.'

We drifted aimlessly. There was nothing here except ferns, trees and cones. ‘We could try boiling up some of the ferns,' I suggested.

‘Let's see if Bell has the strength to gather and light a fire. You'd think there'd be some sort of fruit or vegetable for us to eat,' said Richard.

After another hour's wandering we returned with a handful of ferns for want of anything better to eat. Bell had done well. A fire blazed under the overhang of a rocky outcrop and we boiled water from a nearby stream in a billy can. Barrie had found nothing. ‘Where are all the
bloody kangaroos?' he said. ‘We saw them every day on the farm, and not a single one out here. I could eat a whole kangaroo right now.'

We boiled up the ferns and I volunteered to eat them. ‘If we boil them long enough, that should take the poison out of them,' I told myself.

So when they were just a soggy mess and the water in the billy can had gone bright green, I lifted some stalks out with a clean twig. ‘Wish me luck,' I said to them all, as they gathered round to watch. The smell of the ferns gave nothing away. They smelt slightly sharp, like tomatoes.

I blew to cool them, while Bell and Barrie urged me on. When I placed the soggy mess in my mouth, I could see them drooling, they were so hungry. The ferns were too woody, I chewed and chewed and still they did not seem ready to swallow. The taste, too, was bitter.

At last I swallowed, then tried another mouthful. But as I chewed I was seized by a violent desire to be sick. Out came the fern, and I knelt and retched for ten minutes. Afterwards, I felt weak and dizzy, and lay down away from the campfire to rest. Bright light seemed to make me worse. I couldn't bear to look at the fire glinting on the brass buttons on Barrie's jacket. Still, eating the ferns had cured me of my hunger for the moment. I slept well until daylight, when the raging hunger returned.

That next morning we all looked dreadful. It was now
the seventh day of our escape, and the fourth since we had eaten. We talked about what to do. ‘Keep going east I suppose,' said Richard. ‘Sooner we get to the coast the better.'

‘No sense in that,' said Bell. ‘We'd just be wearing ourselves out, and getting nowhere. If we could find something to eat, we'd all have the strength to walk faster and maybe this blasted leg would begin to heal.'

His ankle looked even more swollen and he hobbled everywhere.

‘Let's walk on until we find a cave that can do as our base,' I said. ‘Somewhere we can shelter if it rains and we can store dry wood and build a fire that can't be seen by soldiers or natives. Then we can go out hunting and meet back there.'

‘Right,' said Barrie. ‘But you're coming with me, Witchall. I don't trust you two to share anything you find with us.'

Richard was indignant. ‘We'd trust you. You've got no reason to say that.'

‘All right then,' he said. ‘But if I find out you've been eating food and not sharing it, I'll have you for supper myself.'

Richard and I went to the river with the fish hook and twine Charlie Palmer had brought us. Barrie and Bell scoured the forest for edible plants. ‘Those two wouldn't
know an edible plant if it bit them in the ass,' said Richard. ‘They've spent their whole lives in London or prison. Not much opportunity for foraging there. They probably wouldn't even recognise a raspberry.'

The day was mild enough for us to wash our filthy clothes and bodies in the river. Sitting by the waterside in the winter sun, waiting for a fish to take the bait, I did feel a sense of contentment. It was midwinter here, and as mild as a late spring day in England. The valley was lush and beautiful. If we could find food, we'd be in paradise.

Morning came and went with no success, although our clothes had dried by noon. It felt good to wear something not caked in mud and that didn't stink of stale sweat. The fish were not interested in the frond we used for bait. There were ducks around, and cormorants, although I couldn't imagine their scraggy black bodies making a tasty meal. Unfortunately, the birds kept their distance.

By late afternoon we'd caught nothing. On the weary trek back to our base I began to dread the tongue-lashing we'd get from Barrie. We returned to find a fire lit, and Barrie and Bell looking expectantly up at us, desperate hope burning in their faces. We shook our heads. Barrie and Bell uttered the foulest curses. ‘We're all going to waste away to nothing here,' wailed Bell. We passed the evening eyeing each other warily on either side of the camp fire.

* * *

On our fourth day without food, I wondered how much longer we could go on. ‘Let's spend the morning by the river and the afternoon combing the wood,' I suggested. ‘Better still,' said Richard, ‘let's take it in turns to do one or the other.'

It was a good idea. We were so weak and dizzy with hunger, sitting by the river with a fishing line was about all we were up to. I found drinking a great deal of water helped, but it could not extinguish this overwhelming desire to eat. ‘It's all I can think about,' I told Richard.

‘Me too, but don't start talking about it.'

He volunteered to go into the forest first. I sat on a rock by the river, and daydreamed about moist roast chicken, and steaming potatoes and carrots dripping with melted butter, and bread and butter pudding with a dollop of cream, and beef and horseradish sandwiches. By the time Richard returned I felt so hollow I was sure I had a hole in my middle.

‘Sam!' he seemed excited. ‘I found a couple of kangaroo apples. I've seen these in the market at Sydney. I searched around the spot for more. But something's eaten the rest.'

‘Do you think we should save one for Bell and Barrie?' I asked.

Richard looked at me doubtfully. ‘Do you think for a second they'd share such a meagre haul with us? If I'd found a whole sackful, I'd bring some back.'

He was right. We ate the fruit as slowly as we could bear to. It tasted like unripe tomato. Then we both washed our faces and hands several times in the river. ‘If they smell anything on us, they'll kill us,' said Richard.

That afternoon I foraged, Richard fished. I was surprised how much better I felt with even a morsel of food inside me. By late afternoon my exhaustion had returned. Every step seemed a chore and I had to fight an overwhelming desire to curl up on the ground and go to sleep. I returned to the river to find Richard lying on the bank, dozing. He'd wrapped his fishing line around his hand.

‘We better get back,' said Richard wearily, when I woke him.

‘If we can walk that far,' I said.

We headed up the side of the valley but I couldn't keep up. ‘Wait for me, Richard,' I shouted angrily.

‘Hurry up then, you lummox,' shouted Richard.

‘You've just spent the afternoon sitting on your arse and dozing,' I shouted, ‘while I hunted around this bloody forest. Have some patience.'

‘And
you
didn't find a bloody thing, did you?' said Richard.

‘Shut up you idiot,' I hissed in his face. I was close to tears. ‘Bell and Barrie might hear you. They'll kill us if they find out we've eaten something we didn't share with them.'

We walked on in sullen silence. ‘We've got to stick
together,' I kept thinking. We couldn't be falling out with each other like this. But I was too angry with Richard to say it.

It took an age to return to the cave. Barrie was there on his own and didn't notice us return. He had lit a fire and was staring into it in a morose way, wrapped up in his own world. He had a livid bruise on the right side of his temple.

‘Where's Mr Bell?' I said. He jumped out of his skin, and a look of horror came over his face.

‘He's been killed by the savages,' he said.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. In an instant I wondered whether they were stalking us even now.

I kept expecting Barrie to tell us more, but he stayed silent. I had to prompt him. ‘What happened?'