by David Field
Daniel thanked him, looked down at the still writhing gift in his hand and said, ‘Fish.’
‘Fidge,’ Bennelong replied as he bowed again.
Daniel smiled in gratitude and held out his hand for the spear, intending to learn from the boy how to catch fish in this manner. The boy backed off with a look of fear in his eyes and Bennelong said something to him. The boy ran back up the beach and came back a few moments later with some dry grass and a few twigs. Bennelong made a circle of beach stones, placed the grass and some of the twigs inside it, then began striking two stones together. In no time at all the collection of wood had become a small flame, onto which he placed more of the twigs. He held out his hand for the fish and when Daniel handed it back he rubbed the scales off it with one of the sharp stones, then placed it on top of the rocks in such a way that it could cook without becoming scorched.
Daniel pointed to the burning collection and said, ‘Fire.’
‘Fy-yer,’ Bennelong repeated.
Daniel held out his hand and Bennelong grasped it eagerly, then pointed to the ground and sat down. Daniel followed suit and while they waited for the fish to cook, they began to exchange names for things like ‘sun’, ‘sand’, ‘hand’ and ‘sea’. When the fish was ready, Bennelong took another sharp stone, placed the fish on a flat rock, cut it in half and handed half of it to Daniel, while retaining the other half. Daniel cried out in pain as the fish in his hand began to burn him and his portion dropped into the sand. Bennelong laughed pleasantly, got up, walked a few feet away and returned with a small piece of tree branch. He cut his remaining portion of fish into two pieces, impaled one half of it onto the end of the stick and handed it to Daniel, who said ‘thank you’ as clearly as he could and began to eat. The fish was only half cooked, but it was a small price to pay for the progress so far.
Then came the trickiest part of the whole operation. Bennelong had glanced once or twice in curiosity at the small rowing boat that Daniel had pulled up above the water line when he had arrived some hours earlier. When they finished eating, Daniel got up and walked to the water’s edge next to the boat and bent down to wash his hands in the incoming surf. Bennelong had walked down with him and was gazing into the gunnels of the small craft.
‘Boat,’ Daniel said and waved his hand in a gesture for Bennelong to climb aboard. He did so and Daniel pushed the boat out, climbed in after him, unsheathed the oars and began to row through the surf out into the bay. A look of alarm spread across Bennelong’s face, but Daniel reassured him by murmuring ‘Friend’ several times and was relieved when his passenger stood up with ease in the bottom of the bouncing craft and yelled something towards the disappearing shore. Reassuring himself that this was not a command for a rescue attack, Daniel kept rowing and was delighted to see several forms disappearing back into the woodland that fringed the bay. Bennelong had presumably advised them that he was going on a pleasure trip and would be back soon.
As they rounded the promontory at the end of the bay, a white face appeared cautiously from behind a rock on the top and only Daniel was aware of Private Drummond waving to a colleague further along the headland. A short while later, as their tiny vessel rocked and swayed in the choppy water on its way north to Sydney Cove, they passed a freshly lit beacon fire on the top of the cliff, which was followed almost immediately by an acknowledging one on the South Head, which could be seen from the lookout point on the island in the inner harbour they had named ‘Rock Island’. It was the signal to the colony that Daniel had met with success and the governor would be waiting to welcome them ashore.
A large ship’s cutter came into sight from the Cove entrance, rowed by six sailors in full uniform and Daniel stopped rowing. Their tiny vessel rocked from side to side and Bennelong looked nervously past Daniel’s shoulder as he became aware of the oncoming naval contingent. Softly muttering ‘Friend’ repeatedly, Daniel kept smiling as he shipped the oars, leapt across into the cutter as it came alongside, then turned back with an outstretched hand, inviting Bennelong to do the same. Bennelong looked suspiciously, first at the sailors, then at the bottom of the cutter. Satisfied that they had no hidden weapons, he took the proffered hand and leapt into the larger boat. While one of the sailors tied Daniel’s original dinghy to the back of the cutter, Daniel breathed a silent prayer of thanks that he had been allowed to do things his way.
The reception committee was waiting on the wharf as the cutter ground up against the wall and Daniel alighted first, holding out a hand for Bennelong to follow him. As they reached the top of the wharf, Daniel took Bennelong’s hand and led him straight towards the governor, who stood, smiling, in his ceremonial uniform in the heat of the setting afternoon sun. Daniel pointed to the governor, said ‘Friend’, then walked up to Phillip and bowed, looking back at Bennelong with the word ‘Chief’.
To everyone’s amazement, Bennelong walked towards the governor, prostrated himself onto the ground, face down, repeating ‘Chief’, over and over again. The Reverend Johnson began to loudly intone a prayer that sounded more like an excommunication ceremony and Phillip had the presence of mind to raise Bennelong from the ground and repeat what he had heard Daniel say earlier.
‘Friend.’
Bennelong smiled widely, then pointed back at Daniel. ‘Friend. Dan-Woo.’
‘You’d better come with us, Lieutenant,’ Governor Phillip instructed him. ‘Among other things, I have to give you Miss Mallett’s ticket of leave, which I signed this morning, in anticipation of this happy outcome. I’m told she’s somewhere in the crowd behind me, if you’d like to take a moment to be reunited with her.’
Daniel looked through the crowd with eager anticipation, but saw only Martha’s back as she hurried up the slope from the wharf to the hut in which she was employed.
The proceedings that followed in Governor Phillip’s house were both encouraging and comic. When offered food in the form of a dish of lamb, Bennelong grabbed it with both hands and tore at its flesh with perfect white teeth, before wiping his hands on his chest. When offered wine, he took one mouthful and spat it out with a torrent of words that were perhaps best left untranslated and when shown to the guest bedroom later that evening, he lay down on the floor and appeared to fall asleep instantly. Governor Phillip had asked Daniel to remain and gestured to an armchair in front of an empty fireplace, by a table on which sat a brandy decanter and two glasses. Governor Phillip took the other chair, poured two glasses, handed one to Daniel and raised his in a toast.
‘What you have achieved today may well save the colony,’ he beamed at Daniel. ‘I have already kept my half of the bargain and I have great pleasure in handing you this official document which makes Miss Mallett the first to receive a ticket of leave on my watch. I also have some other news which you may find pleasing.’
Daniel remained silent as Phillip smiled.
‘I have ordered Major Ross to transfer to Norfolk Island on a permanent basis, as governor of a second colony. Not only will it relieve some of the pressure on our resources, since there is every sign that Norfolk Island can be self-sufficient, but it also removes from our immediate company the man who tried to have you shot.’
‘Who will be our new commanding officer?’ Daniel asked, hoping that it would be George.
‘That remains to be seen, after the anticipated Second Fleet finally gets here. It will bring its own consignment of marines and other officers from whom I may select. But I hope you approve of the transfer of Major Ross.’
‘It’s not really my place to comment, Governor,’ Daniel replied modestly and tactfully, ‘but there is one other favour I would ask.’
‘Ask away,’ Governor Phillip said.
‘Could you consult your records and tell me when Miss Mallett’s birthday is?’
9
‘So I wonder who our new commander will be,’ George commented as they stood surveying the ranks on morning parade, ahead of being marched in formation down to the wharf in order to welcome the officers and crew o
f the Lady Juliana, which lay at anchor in the Cove. ‘He can’t be any worse than the last one anyway.’
‘Is it true that we’re going to get a new governor as well?’ Daniel asked.
‘You’d have to hope not, since you’ve done so well out of the first one,’ George grinned, ‘but I did hear him tell Captain Tait that he’s had enough of this place, which is proving hazardous to his health, apparently. Perhaps as a special favour, Captain Edgar will take him back to England when the Lady Juliana heads back.’
‘Talking of favours, George, could I ask if you’d be prepared to hold a small party for Martha’s birthday?’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ George assured him. ‘Rachel loves any form of social event. When is it?’
‘August 9th.’
‘Well, that gives us plenty of time to organise things. What did you have in mind?’
‘Nothing really pretentious. Just a few people, some wine if we can wangle it, some more of your delicious fish and a speech from you welcoming her into our midst as a free woman, perhaps.’
‘Talking of which,’ George said, ‘did you say something to upset her when you came back ashore with Bennelong?’
‘Never even got to speak to her, why?’
‘Just that she was in floods of tears and Rachel wasn’t sure if they were tears of relief to see that you’d got back safely, or if you’d managed to upset her again.’
‘I don’t set out to upset her, George — it just works out that way. Everything I say or do seems to go down the wrong way, so I’ve more or less given up. She seemed to be interested in that man Perkin, anyway.’
‘Oh, that was just a ruse to get your attention,’ George replied to Daniel’s relief. ‘She hasn’t seen him for weeks. I gave her the ticket of leave certificate but she just looked at it, then stuffed it in her pocket like it meant nothing to her. Eyes front, here they come.’
A single cutter had pulled away from the Lady Juliana and was being rowed towards the wharf. George and Daniel marched their men down to the foreshore and stood at the entrance to the wharf, at attention. Daniel peered hard, but was unable to make out any military uniforms among the handful of men in the cutter, who all seemed to be civilians. Eventually the boat was moored to the iron ring set into the jetty wall and three civilians climbed unsteadily up the rope ladder slung from its side, clearly seeking to be reunited with their land legs. The marines presented arms as a mark of welcome and respect and George and Daniel walked towards the new arrivals, three men who looked ragged, under-nourished and grey in the face.
‘Captain Johnston and First Lieutenant Bradbury, New South Wales Marine Corps. Welcome to Port Jackson.’
‘Never mind all that,’ the man in the centre of the new arrivals muttered. ‘How many surgeons have you got?’
‘Three altogether — why?’ George asked, somewhat taken aback.
‘Because, Captain,’ the man replied, ‘we’re about to unload over two hundred women convicts and half of them are near dead from the voyage.’
‘Two hundred, on a vessel that size?’ Daniel couldn’t help himself asking. ‘We had one hundred on a larger vessel than that and even then it was a bit overcrowded.’
‘You can thank your precious Admiralty for that,’ the man snarled, then spat on the ground. ‘I’m Thomas Edgar and it’s been my miserable duty to steer that rotting hulk with its pestilential cargo for over three hundred days of sheer hell. This man is my ship’s surgeon, name of Halliday, and he’s half dead with fatigue and despair. We’ll need tents on the beach to lay out the dying, hospitals for the ones we can save and deep holes for the ones who’re already dead. We heaved two over the side out by that headland on the way in, but I gather that two more have died while we’ve been at anchor. It’s not cholera — more likely simple starvation.’
‘Where’s the rest of your fleet?’ George asked.
‘God knows,’ Edgar replied. ‘We last saw the Neptune as we left the Cape and she was limping in. She and the Surprize and the Scarborough have the male convicts and we assume that they’re somewhere behind us. We did have a fifth one, the Guardian, but she broke up near the Cape on her way in and the convicts who weren’t drowned were due to be transferred to the Neptune, which no doubt only served to overcrowd it even more. There’s a supply ship, the Justinian, somewhere behind us, but she’s faster than the rest, so should get here soon.’
‘Do you have any marines?’ George asked.
‘They’re spread among the male convict vessels,’ Edgar told him. ‘They’re under the command of a Captain Paterson on board the Gorgon, but their real commanding officer’s still back in London, waiting for the next fleet, no doubt. I gather that Paterson has despatches for the governor.’
‘The governor’s waiting in his mansion to formally welcome you,’ George said in a tone of voice that lacked real enthusiasm. ‘I’m his adjutant, by the way.’
‘So you have his authority?’ Edgar asked.
‘Of course.’
‘Well, in that case, give his Excellency my apologies and tell him that I’m too busy unloading my ghost ship. Perhaps your men could be ordered to help with that.’
Daniel was sent to round up as many surgeons as he could locate, plus convict women who had been roughly trained in nursing as part of their sentences and he detailed a handful of marines to erect tents above the high-water mark. He took one look at the pathetic, stinking, half-starved and lice-ridden wrecks who had once no doubt been attractive women, but who were now being decanted unceremoniously onto the shingle as if they were bags of flour and sent also for the Reverend Johnson, who passed mournfully among the dead and dying with his prayer-book in his hand and a look of shock and revulsion on his face.
At sunrise the following morning, George sought out Daniel, and took him to see Governor Phillip.
‘We’re likely to be under attack in the near future,’ Governor Phillip told them. ‘It looks like the native fellows want their man back, which is a disaster, since we’ve just begun to get some sense out of him. But there’s a whole tribe of them up at the south-west end, near the brickworks. I want you two to take a large detachment of men and show them that our friendship stretches only so far.’
‘My family are up there!’ George gasped. ‘Permission to get back up there without delay, Governor?’
‘Yes, of course. Take Bradbury here with you, since he seems to have a gift for getting through to them. And at least a dozen men, fully armed. We can’t show them any sign of weakness.’
As they approached George’s hut, Daniel could see Rachel standing outside, wringing her hands in anguish and looking down towards them. George rushed over and hugged her gratefully and she asked, ‘Is it true? Are the natives coming to revenge themselves for Daniel taking their chief? Martha’s hiding in the back room with Roseanna and George Junior, but should we make a run for it down to the shore?’
‘Just go inside with Martha and the children,’ George instructed her, ‘while we go and find out what’s got the natives rattled. Daniel’s good at talking to them, so don’t worry.’
Daniel did his best to look confident as they carried on up the slope, past the edge of the forest and down the track to the brickworks. As they got to within a hundred yards of its entrance, a spear landed in the earth ahead of them and a tall native stepped out. The men halted on a command from George and as more natives appeared behind the first, the two groups stood eyeing each other in an uneasy silence.
The man who had presumably thrown the spear called out, ‘Friend.’
‘Over to you, Lieutenant Friend,’ George muttered nervously.
Daniel stepped forward so as to be standing clear of the rest of the men. He pointed to his own chest. ‘Me Friend. Daniel.’
There was an excited chatter among the natives and a young woman was pushed to the front.
The man in command of the tribal group pointed to the woman and shouted, ‘Barangaroo. Bennelong.’
Daniel pointed back down th
e track they had just walked up, towards the main settlement. ‘Bennelong. Friend.’
The man broke into what might have been a smile, but it was difficult to tell beneath all the scars that criss-crossed his face. He pointed in the same direction. ‘Barangaroo. Friend Bennelong.’
‘Far be it from me to teach you your business, old chap,’ George muttered from the corner of his mouth, ‘but I believe he wants you to take this lass down to Bennelong.’
Daniel pointed to the woman, then pointed back down the track.
Excited chatter broke out among the natives and the marines behind Daniel began nervously shouldering their muskets. George ordered them to ground them, offering a court martial to the first one to prime his powder and while he was doing so, the natives melted back into the bushes as fast as they had appeared in the first place, leaving the woman standing alone and looking fearful.
Daniel smiled and pointed to her. ‘Barangaroo?’
‘Barangaroo,’ the woman confirmed.
Daniel pointed back down the track again. ‘Bennelong?’
The woman said something in an excited response and Daniel held out an open hand in a gesture that she was to accompany him. The marines melted to the side and let the two of them through, then formed up behind them and accompanied them down the slope, Barangaroo a few feet from Daniel’s side, looking from side to side with wide eyes as they began to pass the first outlying convict huts.
As they approached George’s hut, George detached himself and ran in. Daniel heard several joyful shouts, then Rachel and Martha appeared at the window, each with a child in their arms. As they passed the hut, Martha said quietly, but loudly enough for Daniel to hear, ‘Did you buy her in exchange for a ticket of leave?’