Steve Brown's Bunyip, and Other StoriesBarry, John Arthur
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Steve Brown's Bunyip, and Other Stories
Barry, John Arthur
Australia -- Fiction; Sea stories; Short stories
‘It was very warm, and the tannery smell more powerful than ever. A
sensation of surrounding vastness and space, however, was with me as
opposed to the confined cramped feeling of being in a narrow channel,
such as I suppose myself to have emerged from. Now, I could stand
upright and thrust an oar out and upwards without touching anything;
and, shouting aloud, the sound went echoing and thundering away over
the surface of the water with reverberations lasting for minutes.
‘I can take you into that place,’ continued the Captain impressively,
‘and tell you about it as far as my poor words will serve. But I
cannot tell you my feelings. At times I almost imagined that I was in
Hades, and that the ceaseless noises about me were the cries and
groans of lost souls therein. At others, a wild, forlorn hope would
seize me, that it might all turn out to be only a horrible dream, and
that I should presently awake to see God’s dear sun shining brightly
on the gallant ship and the green island once more. It had all
happened with such startling rapidity, the transformation had been so
utter and complete, that to this day I wonder I did not become a
raving madman, and so perish miserably down there in the depths. But
God in His infinite mercy took pity upon me, and brought me at the
last out of such a prison as it is given to few men to see, much less
escape from.
‘Like the majority of seafarers, I, in those days, seldom troubled my
head about what is vaguely called “religion.”
‘The careful and pious teachings of my childhood had been forgotten
almost wholly. But, in that awesome place, in solitude and misery,
bound with darkness of Scripture, “that might be felt,” many things
came back to me; and, kneeling down, I clasped my hands and prayed
fervently that I might be saved out of the valley of the shadow of
death which encompassed me. Feeling better and stronger, I took my
sheath-knife, and with it cut away at one of the oars until I had
quite a respectable pile of chips. Placing this on the rock alongside,
I set it on fire, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing it blaze
cheerfully up and, for a few yards, dispel the darkness. I kept adding
fuel from the same source, with the addition of a couple of
stretchers, until I had a really good-sized fire. By its light I saw
that I was on a flat rock some twenty feet in circumference. Round
about were other islets, shaped most fantastically. One, close to,
resembled a gigantic horseshoe; another towered up, the perfect
similitude of a church spire, into the darkness. At their bases were
holes, into and through which the water, flowing and ebbing, produced
the sounds that at first had so alarmed me. Look as I might, I could
not distinguish the way I had come in, although I thought I could hear
the steady pouring of a volume of water not far away. Breaking off a
lump of the stone on which I sat, I examined it closely, and felt
pretty certain that it was lava. I had seen such before at Mauna Loa,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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