Read Online English passengers by Matthew Kneale - Free Book Online Page A

number of mule bags, which appeared plentiful enough for a small army.
    ‘‘I’m afraid it won’t be easy to find another vessel,’’ declared Childs glumly. ‘‘I understand the Admiralty is requisitioning everything it can lay its hands on.’’
    ‘‘What if we went by steamer?’’ suggested Potter. ‘‘I believe they now go as far as the Australian mainland.’’
    I could not help but find it a little trying that this man, who had been a member of the expedition barely a week, was already lecturing us as to how it should be conducted. ‘‘It is essential that we have a vessel of our own,’’ I told him firmly. ‘‘We may need it to transport us to some part of the Tasmanian wilderness, or to bring us supplies.’’
    Renshaw yawned. ‘‘How about a foreign ship? They won’t have been taken.’’
    It was typical of the fellow to come up with so disloyal a notion. Childs, who is of a keenly patriotic disposition, gave him a reproving look. ‘‘Better to have no vessel at all than that. This is an English Christian expedition and as such it should not have to rely upon men of false belief No, if nothing else is obtainable, then I am afraid we must simply consider postponing departure.’’
    Here I had to intervene. ‘‘But that would mean we’d not arrive in Van Diemen’s Land in time for the southern summer, which is the only suitable season to journey into the interior. The venture would have to be delayed by a whole year.’’
    At this point the discussion faltered. The fact was, we had reached an impasse. It was essential we leave at once yet none of us could think of a means of doing so. For a time we stood thus in the parlour inunhappy silence, watching the arrival of ever more stores. By now the cart driver and his helper had finished with the bulkier objects and, perspiring from their exertions, were at work on consumables Major Stanford had purchased.
    ‘‘There’s some choice stuff here,’’ observed Renshaw.
    It did seem that Major Stanford had selected his supplies with an eye for both quantity and quality, not to say luxury. I found myself wondering if he might have been unduly concerned by a reluctance to repeat his unfortunate experience with the Mesopotamian mule. Before us appeared, variously, best potted ham, hermetically sealed salmon, hotchpotch from Aberdeen, and whole cases of sherry, whisky and champagne. Nor was there any danger that these would be consumed in discomfort, either, as the next stores included folding tables and chairs, table linen, crockery and some finest Sheffield silver cutlery. To complete the arrangements there was a large box of finest Cuban cigars.
    ‘‘No wonder there were so many mule packs,’’ murmured Renshaw.
    Jonah Childs seemed little pleased, which was understandable seeing as it was he who had paid for it all. ‘‘I had no idea Major Stanford felt a need to be so commodiously supplied.’’
    ‘‘Perhaps it’s not entirely unfortunate that he has been called away,’’ suggested Potter. ‘‘After all, he has no knowledge of Australia.’’
    It struck me as more than a little impertinent of this new arrival to begin criticizing long-serving members of the venture, and yet, rather to my own surprise, Childs made no attempt to discourage the man. He even seemed to concur with his view. ‘‘That’s certainly true. Mind you, I’m doubtful we would be able to find an Australian expert now, at such short notice.’’
    Thus we passed on to the question of the leader, though the discussion remained of necessity rather tentative, the expedition itself being nothing else.
    ‘‘Then again, do we need an explorer at all?’’ suggested Potter radically. ‘‘Such persons will be ten a penny in Tasmania itself I’m sure. Perhaps we should be looking simply for a someone who possesses the right qualities of character. A man of determination and vigour. Of energy and decision. Of strength of body and mind.’’
    It was