# Lindigo, the White Woman/Chapter 23

CHAPTER XXIII.
MATOKA, THE WARRIGAL YOUTH.
The feelings which overwhelmed Bella in her captivity, and the many hardships and sufferings she had to endure, would have crushed many a stout heart. The fate of her companions she could not learn, but the fatal evidence of seeing the clothing and other articles distributed among the tribe, left no room for conjecture; but, how ​came she to be saved? it was beyond her comprehension. Many articles of value to her and her captors were saved from the wreck. Everything portable was removed to the main encampment, which was situated on one of the lake islands a short distance inland, where all the women and children of the tribe were at the time. Among the latter Bella, or Lindigo, as she was named, became a great favourite through her kind attentions to their wants, particularly those suffering from illness. A medicine chest belonging to the ship was among the articles saved, by which she was able to cure several cases among them.
On becoming acquainted with part of their language, after a great amount of trouble on her part as well as her instructors, she understood the reason why herself and Bran were so much venerated among the tribe.
It appeared that the chief, Bungilina's father, had the year before been fishing at the very spot where the vessel was wrecked, when an enormous shark carried him off. On the tribe seeing the ship cast on shore, and the people struggling in the waves, Bungilina's attention was attracted by Bran saving the body of Bella, and never having seen an animal of that sort, he thought that it was his father, who had taken upon himself the form of a large dog (a general belief among the aborigines) in order to save Lindigo, who, like a spiritual being was sent to their tribe to confer many benefits upon them. Bungilina was so impressed with this idea that he gave positive orders that Lindigo and Bran were not to be interfered with, neither was any insult to be offered to either.
Lindigo, as we shall now call Bella, derived a great deal of instruction from a youth of the tribe named Matoka, who was apparently about seventeen years of age, possessed great intelligence and activity, and was remarkable for his appearance, being far above the rest of the tribe. He considered Lindigo as a spiritual being, and was guided by her instructions in the improvement of his mind and habits. His instructress had gained his confidence to such an extent that all the intentions and secrets of the tribe were communicated to her by ​him. Her least wants and comforts were attended to with the most scrupulous nicety. Her gunyah was constructed with a greater regard to neatness and comfort than any of the rest, and was tastefully decorated with many curious ornaments. Her clothes were made of the finest skins of the Tuon (a small squirrel), and her food consisted of the most delicate game, such as the Wonga Wonga, Quail, &c., so that her captivity became more endurable every day, as she became more reconciled to her fate.
Her dog also gained a more exalted position in their estimation, and fully confirmed their first opinion that he was Bungilina's father, being equally as good a hunter as their lost chief. A plentiful supply of kangaroo and emu were run down, so that they had more food than they could consume, and their former enemies, a neighbouring tribe were entirely subdued, all owing to the advent of Lindigo and her dingo among them.
Years passed away without bringing succour to the forlorn captive, but her hopes never deserted her.
The tribe shifted their haunt occasionally between the lake islets and the plains, where game was procured in abundance, through the services of Bran. While they were on the plains, they were all surprised one evening at the sudden return of the men who had gone on a hunting expedition, and who were not expected back for a few days, plainly telling by their looks and manners that some extraordinary event had taken place which sent them back so precipitately.
Bungilina and Matoka, not being of the party, met the hunters before they entered the camp, to ascertain the cause of their unexpected return, the females being seldom admitted into their conferences or secrets. A long consultation took place among them, which judging from the excitement manifested by all parties, was, of great importance, and Lindigo observed that several suspicious and stolen glances were directed by them towards her during the deliberation, filling her with dread and insecurity.
She missed from among them the leader of the band, who acted on such occasions as Bungilina's substitute ​when the latter remained at home, and the grief and lamentation of some of the woman who had gathered in, left no doubt in Lindigo's mind that the missing man had been killed in a fray with some other tribe, and of which she was evidently to be kept in ignorance, as she could not by any means ascertain the facts. Matoka, her former friend and confidant, kept aloof on this occasion, and held down his head with apparent distrust and sorrow whenever she caught his eye; this added considerably to her alarm. During the night preparations were made for a speedy removal to the lakes, and at the break of day they commenced their journey, and arrived safely at their island home.
Many unsuccessful attempts were made by Lindigo to induce Matoka to divulge the secret, but the fear of punishment, and the strict discipline of his brother Bungilina, kept him silent, knowing well that any breach of the laws would be attended by fatal consequences.
Since their arrival at their island encampment, which was situated in the middle of a clump of tea tree, Lindigo sought the shade of a favourite cherry-tree near the margin of the lake, where she had often passed a quiet hour, reflecting on bygone days and happy hours, which were apparently never to return.
On this day, which was beautifully calm, her thoughts and mediations took a more affecting and mournful turn than usual, occasioned by her having lost some of the confidence of those in whose power she was, and particularly that of her kind friend Matoka, who had become daily more reserved. Her own sad fate appeared more awful to her mind, and her early happiness among those she loved, contrasted with her present situation sadly oppressed her mind.
The still and glassy lake before her carried her thoughts back to Kinnlochlinn, on whose waters she had so often gazed while waiting for Donald's pibroch, telegraphing his young master's love to her ears.
How well she remembered each note, after so many years! and how plain they sounded through her ears and imagination at that moment! Strange! her ​imagination never before betrayed her into such a delicious trance, or charmed her ears with such enchanting strains of music! Yes; every note of the never forgotten pibroch became more and more distinct, and instead of dying away on the air, and leaving her far more forlorn than ever, it increased in power, and became more real! Could it be a dream, or a prognostication of some calamity? She moved herself to ascertain whether she was really awake, and turned her eyes towards the part she imagined the sound came from, when! Did her eyes deceive her? Or was it a vision? There, truly, was the model of Charlie Stuart's boat gliding round the point of the islet! and Donald Munro, as of yore, in the bows, playing the well-known pibroch! Yes, it was him, for she could not mistake his playing, for many a delightful evening she had listened to it. But, who was that sitting at the tiller, and turning his eyes towards the shore? It is he! It is Charlie Stuart! How piercing are the eyes of love! She could not be deceived! She gasped for breath while in the act of calling on his name! Her limbs trembled under her when she attempted to rise!
A harsh voice now whispered in her ear the well known words, "Wynn bah" (not yet), and a powerful arm seized her. "Charlie dear, save me!" were the only words she could utter, when she fell insensible in her captor's arms, and was carried back to the camp by Bungilina.
On recovering from her swoon, Lindigo found herself stretched on a couch, with Matoka bathing her temples, and Bungilina bandaging his arm, it having been seriously injured by the teeth of Bran, who was growling at her side.
When the chief was removed out of hearing, and Lindigo was able to converse, her kind friend Matoka told her that Bungilina, having been fishing on the opposite side of the island, heard the strange music from the whitefellows' canoe; he then ran home, under the belief that they were coming to rescue Lindigo. Not finding her at the camp, he made for her favourite haunt the cherry-tree, from which he carried her to the ​camp insensible. When Bran saw her in Bungilina's arms he sprang upon him, and would have torn him to pieces, had not the chief instantly laid her down.
The weakened state of Lindigo, and the tears she shed at her disappointment in not being seen and liberated by Charlie and his companions, moved the young savage to pity her.
He now told her the purport of the secret which had been kept from her; how it was that the hunting party had so suddenly met with the loss of their leader.
This was that they discovered a number of white men, with many strange animals and other things belonging to them, had taken possession of their hunting grounds; that when they attempted to drive them away, and surrounded them in their building, fire and thunder was sent upon them, which killed their leader at once. Hence their precipitate retreat to the island, lest they should all share the same fate if Lindigo was found in their possession. He also told her that strict commands on pain of death were given by Bungilina, that who was to be kept ignorant of the discovery lest she might make her escape.
Lindigo finding Matoka so communicative, and softened to such a degree towards her, thought this a favourable opportunity to gain his pity and assistance in making her escape from where she might remain a captive all her lifetime, and at the same time so near the only person she loved on earth. She worded her petition in the following manner, according to the custom of the tribe:—
"The brave Matoka knows well that a poor woman who was never used to living in the thick forest, or swim the deep water, or paddle the canoe like his own native women, is unable to make her escape without the help of a warrior! and who could she seek help from in an undertaking which would bring to her the greatest happiness she could desire, but her kind, generous, and brave Matoka; who had always attended to her comforts, and whose quick eye and swift foot hunted down the fastest kangaroo which furnished her with food and covering, whose skillful hand constructed her bowers and adorned ​them with the tails of the Wallna Wallna (Lyre Bird), whose sharp spear brought down from the tallest tree the nimble Tuon for her furs, and from the densest scrub the shy Wonga Wonga for her food!"
This appeal to the savage caused an apparent struggle in his mind, and he seemed to waver awhile between sympathy for the pleader and the stern commands and duty he owed to his brother the chief. But, alas! the latter predominated. The terrible punishment and everlasting disgrace (should his loyalty to his tribe fail) determined his mind, and he answered—"It must not be. What would the Warrigals say if I were to assist you in your escape? They would say—'There goes the traitor Matoka, who betrayed his brother and tribe! He has opened the track for the white men to make thunder and spit fire upon us! Our wives will become widows; they shall wear clay on their hair, and our children will be orphans! Who will then hunt the kangaroo and emu? Our enemies shall hunt our game, which will make way for the white fellows big animals! The corroboree will be held no longer, and the cooey and war shout will be silenced by the white man's thunder, and the loud crack of his snake (stockwhip)!' When you are gone there will be no smiling face to cheer Matoka when he returns from hunting his game and fighting his enemies. Who then will say a kind word to him, or teach him how the white man does his wonderful work? Lindigo will then become the wife of the white man, who will take her to his gunyah, where she will forget all about Matoka."
"Brave and noble Matoka," replied Lindigo, "you are greatly mistaken; never will Lindigo forget her kind and generous Warrigal friend. If you help me you need no longer fear your tribe or their laws; the white man will be your friend, and that of your tribe, if you will but restore to them their long-lost Lindigo. They will give you their spitfire (gun), and teach you how to use it, when you will be able to chastise your enemies and kill your game. You will have no need to tire your limbs in your hunting, for a Yarraman (horse) shall carry you after it. Every one will then say—'There goes the ​brave Matoka, who brought back our long-lost Lindigo! We will make him a great chief over all the tribes! We will clothe him like ourselves, and give him back all his hunting-ground.'"
It was enough; the right chord was struck; Matoka surrendered to the musical voice of the pleader. He could no longer withstand her look, and the touching appeal of the white woman. His eyes brightened; he grasped his nulla-nulla more tightly, then looking at his half-naked limbs and inferior war implements, he whispered cautiously "Malae," (I surrender); "to-night, when all are asleep." 'Wah!' exclaimed Bungilina, who thought the time given to Matoka had been exceeded, when the young man sprung out of the gunyah, afraid that his last words had been heard by his brother.
With great anxiety and hope Lindigo watched for the coming darkness, the time went wearily until the last of the tribe had laid down for the night. Her dog kept close by her side within the gunyah, and sat up as if watching something. At length he gave a slight growl, which was instantly interrupted by the hand of his mistress being placed on his mouth, when the crouching figure of the faithful Matoka was seen at the entrance. Without a word he took her by the hand, leading her in the same recumbent position, while her dog instinctively sneaked behind her, and followed in a slow and measured step.
In passing close by Bungilina's gunyah they heard, to their terror, that either his lacerated arm or suspicion kept him still awake; they had, therefore, to crawl more cautiously, dreading every moment that he might spring up and seize them. However, they cleared the camp safely, and penetrated the narrow strip of tea-tree, which separated the encampment from the border of the lake where the canoes lay. Matoka pushed his canoe a little further out, when Lindigo and her dog seated themselves in the bottom. But, horror! the faithful guide had hardly taken his place when the alarm was heard in the camp, and, instantly a rush was made to the canoes. Matoka made the best use he could of the start by shooting out into the lake, and, with his usual skill, ​plied his paddles with great quickness; but, alas! his pursuers were equally expert in that art. The yells and screams of the pursuers, which pierced the still night air, nearly frightened poor Lindigo to death. However, by the encouraging words of her guide, she endeavoured to keep her spirits up.
One canoe, which shot ahead of the rest, closed upon them at every stroke, when Matoka uttered the word Bungilina, which sent a thrill of horror through Lindigo's heart, knowing the chiefs superiority in propelling his canoe. The chase now became exciting and alarming to the fugitives, for the chief's canoe was almost abreast of them, apparently Bungilina had the intention of heading them.
The brothers now strained every nerve, when the chiefs wounded arm began to bleed, which greatly weakened him, and was thus unable to gain an inch.
Seeing himself likely to be defeated, he seized his boomerang, and hurled it violently at the fugitives, but fortunately missed them, striking, however, the side of their canoe, which, being nearly cut in two, sunk instantly under them. As Lindigo was sinking, her faithful dog, for the second time, saved her life by holding her up, when the chief once more had her in his power, and she again became his captive. The faithful Matoka was picked up, greatly exhausted, by one of the canoes, and brought back a prisoner to the camp.
Next day the sentence was passed on Matoka for attempting to carry off the white captive, thus violating the strict laws of his brother the chief, and the whole tribe, who had prophesied their own extirpation should Lindigo be restored to her own race, having no doubt but that she would reveal their sacrificing her shipwrecked companions.
The sentence passed on warriors holding such a high position as Matoka did, was generally to have a certain number of spears thrown at him, according to the nature and extent of his offence, and should he be skilful and active enough to ward them off with his narrow shield, he would be forgiven and raised to a higher rank. But on the other hand, should he be unfortunate, enough ​to receive a wound, or be killed, his executioner would stop into his position. Matoka having therefore committed such a heinous offence, and being the rightful successor to the chieftainship, his punishment was to be more severe, which was that fifty spears should be thrown at him by picked men.
The idea of escaping was almost hopeless, as the tempting reward was sufficient to bring out the executioner's skill. The victim was accordingly brought forth, and placed on the spot chosen in the presence of the whole tribe. The chosen warriors were ranged before him with their terrible spears, each eager to be the fortunate victor.
Lindigo, in a flood of tears, endeavoured to arrest them in their intentions, but it was of no avail. The brave youth took his stand with a cool and determined air, without the slightest manifestation of fear in his manly and open countenance. His bold and confident attitude was the admiration of all, and not a little aggravated his executioners' thirst for his life.
Lindigo wrung her hands in despair, blaming herself for being the cause of the noble youth's untimely fate, and she prayed that he might be spared.
Divesting himself of all covering except a fur kilt, Matoka awaited the coming storm. Looking all round, as if taking a last farewell of all, and giving one affectionate glance at Lindigo, who returned it encouragingly, he placed his right foot before him, and raised his shield.
It would be superfluous to detail each aim, and the determination exhibited to accomplish the object by the executioners, or the extraordinary agility and expertness with which their intended victim evaded and parried each spear as it was darted with precision at his heart. Not being at liberty to shift his position, which was prescribed by a small circle, just sufficient to stand in, nevertheless when a spear threatened his head, he ducked down, and when one threatened his lower extremities, he sprung up, so that the spears, one after the other, fell harmless in his rear, and stuck in the ground.
Those spears, however, which threatened his heart, ​were more terrible; and required more skill to parry them off with his small shield, but they also shared the same fate, being met with wonderful steadiness, amidst the acclamations of the tribe, until the whole had been thrown, when Matoka was led forth in triumph for his unparalleled victory.