Front Cover
 The Lost Child
 Title Page
 List of Illustrations
 The Lost Child
 Back Cover

Title: The lost child
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00026188/00001
 Material Information
Title: The lost child
Physical Description: 41, 2 p. : ill. ; 23 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Kingsley, Henry, 1830-1876
Frølich, Lorenz, 1820-1908 ( Illustrator )
Macmillan & Co ( Publisher )
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor ( Printer )
James Burn & Company ( Binder )
Publisher: Macmillan and Co.
Place of Publication: London ;
New York
Manufacturer: R. Clay, Sons and Taylor
Publication Date: 1871
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Lost children -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Obedience -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Animals -- Juvenile fiction -- Australia   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Australia   ( lcsh )
Burn and Co -- Binder's ticket (Binding) -- 1871   ( rbbin )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1871   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1871
Genre: Binder's ticket (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by Henry Kingsley ; illustrated by L. Frölich.
General Note: Engraved title vignette.
General Note: Cover vignette in gilt.
General Note: Sadleir 1353.
General Note: Binder's ticket for Burn and Co.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00026188
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223972
notis - ALG4228
oclc - 06058861

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    The Lost Child
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Title Page
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    List of Illustrations
        Page 11
        Page 12
    The Lost Child
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
    Back Cover
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
Full Text
S-M g i i . ~ .m .m ....- ........i _- i i7

The Baldwin Library, UnivorsityFloida


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%~ PPI0,"Looking eagerly across M1e ialer." FRONTr.

THE LOST CHILD.BYHENRY KINGSLEY." And there he stood, naked and free, on the fobidden ground."ILL US7.'A 7 ED BY L. FROLICi.Xonbon anb )du tonh:MACMILLAN AND CO.1871.*i--- ------ ----- --

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I /PREFACE.IT is only natural that an author shouldsay a few words about a republicationof this kind. The story in its separateform has the advantage of being illus-trated by an eminent artist, whosespecial qualifications are widely knownand acknowledged; and it seemed toall concerned best that it should beleft entirely untouched. The first twoparagraphs and the last short one aresimply added: no other liberty has beentaken with it.To avoid the trouble of those greatplagues of literature, foot-notes, theauthor asks the reader to submit to afew very trifling explanations:"Quantongs" are a bush fruit, of aboutA2

8 PREFA CE.the same quality as green gooseberries,but, like the last-named fruit, verymuch sought after by the native youth.The Bunyip is the native river devil,or kelpie, evidently the crocodile of theNorthern Australian rivers, whose re-cognition by the Southern natives intheir legends shows, if nothing elsedid, that the centre of dispersion inAustralia was from the North, asDoctor Laing told us years ago.With regard to the habit which lostchildren have of aimless climbing, theauthor knew a child who, being lostby his father while out shooting on oneof the flats bordering on the EasternPyrenees in Port Phillip on Sundayafternoon, was found the next Wednes-day dead, at an elevation above theAvoca township of between two andthree thousand feet.


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THE LOST CHILD.REMEMBER ? Yes, I remember wellthat time when the disagreement arosebetween Sam Buckley and Cecil, andhow it was mended. You are wrongabout one thing, General; no wordsever passed between those two youngmen: death was between them beforethey had time to speak.I will tell you the real story, old asI am, as well as either of them couldtell it for themselves; and as I tell itI hear the familiar roar of the oldsnowy river in my ears, and if I shutmy eyes I can see the great mountain,Lanyngerin, bending down his headlike a thorough-bred horse with a curb

12 THE LOST CHILD.in his mouth; I can see the long greyplains, broken with the outlines ofthe solitary volcanoes Widderin andMonmot. Ah, General Halbert! Iwill go back there next year, for I amtired of England, and I will leave mybones there; I am getting old, and Iwant peace, as I had it in Australia.As for the story you speak of, it issimply this:Four or five miles up the riverfrom Garoopna stood a solitary hut,sheltered by a lofty bare knoll, roundwhich the great river chafed among theboulders. Across the stream was theforest sloping down in pleasant gladesfrom the mountain; and behind the hutrose the plain four or five hundred feetoverhead, seeming to be held aloft bythe blue-stone columns which rose fromthe river-side.

THE LOST CHILD. 13In this cottage resided a shepherd,his wife, and one little boy, their son,about eight years old,-a strange, wildlittle bush child, able to speak articu-.lately, but utterly without knowledge orexperience of human creatures, save ofhis father and mother; unable to reada line; without religion of any sortor kind; as entire a little savage, infact, as you could find in the worstden in your city, morally speaking, andyet beautiful to look on; as active asa roe, and, with regard to naturalobjects, as fearless as a lion.As yet unfit to begin labour; allthe long summer he would wanderabout the river bank, up and downthe beautiful rock-walled paradise wherehe was confined, sometimes lookingeagerly across the water at the wavingforest boughs, and fancying he could

14 THE LOST CHILD.see other children far up the vistasbeckoning to him to cross and playin that merry land of shifting lightsand shadows.It grew quite into a passion withthe poor little man to get across andplay there; and one day when hismother was shifting the hurdles, andhe was handing her the strips of greenhide which bound them together, hesaid to her,-" Mother, what country is thatacross the river?""The forest, child."" There's plenty of quantongs overthere, eh, mother, and raspberries?Why mayn't I get across and playthere ?"" The river is too deep, child, andthe Bunyip lives in the water underthe stones."

x." MotherJ, wiat country is that across the river?"

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THE LOST CHILD. 17"Who are the children that playacross there ?"" Black children, likely.""No white children ?"" Pixies; don't go near 'em, child;they'll lure you on, Lord knows where.Don't get trying to cross the river,now, or you'll be drowned."But next day the passion wasstronger on him than ever. Quiteearly on the glorious cloudless mid-summer day he was down by the river-side, sitting on a rock, with his shoesand stockings off, paddling his feetin the clear tepid water, and watchingthe million fish in the shallows-black fish and grayling-leaping andflashing in the sun.There is no pleasure that I have everexperienced like a child's midsummerholiday,-the time, I mean, when two

18 THE LOST CHILD.or three of us used to go away up thebrook, and take our dinners with us,and come home at night tired, dirty,happy, scratched beyond recognition,with a great nosegay, three little troutand one shoe, the other having beenused for a boat till it had gone downwith all hands out of soundings. Howpoor our Derby days, our Greenwichdinners, our evening parties, where thereare plenty of nice girls, are, after that!Depend on it, a man never experiencessuch pleasure or grief after fourteenas he does before: unless in some casesin his first love-making, when the sen-sation is new to him.But, meanwhile, there sat our child,barelegged, watching the forbiddenground beyond the river. A freshbreeze was moving the trees, andmaking the whole a dazzling mass ofL. )

THE LOST CHILD. 19shifting light and shadow. He sat sostill that a glorious violet and red king-fisher perched quite close, and, dashinginto the water, came forth with a fish,and fled like a ray of light along thewinding of the river. A colonyof little shell parrots, too, crowdedon a bough, and twittered and ranto and fro quite busily, as thoughthey said to him, "We don't mindyou, my dear; you are quite one ofus..Never was the river so low. Hestepped in; it scarcely reached hisankle. Now surely he might getacross. He stripped himself, and,carrying his -clothes, waded through,the water never reaching his middle,all across the long, yellow gravellyshallow. And there he stood, nakedand free, on the forbidden ground.

20 THE LOST CHILD.He quickly dressed himself, andbegan examining his new kingdom,rich beyond his utmost hopes. Suchquantongs, such raspberries, surpassingimagination; and when tired of them,such fern boughs, six or eight feetlong! He would penetrate this region,and see how far it extended.What tales he would have for hisfather to-night! He would bring himhere, and show him all the wonders,and perhaps he would build a newhut over here, and come and live init? Perhaps the pretty young lady,with the feathers in her hat, livedsomewhere here, too ?There! There is one of thosechildren he has seen before across theriver. Ah! ah! it is not a child atall, but a pretty grey beast, with bigears. A kangaroo, my lad; he won't

S--- _"A Kangaroo! A.4 Snake! An Eagle!"~-~C~i*~= ,*' i.I1 *' i> ** .. ^ ^ / ; *' n ~ i le4

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THE LOST CHILD. 23play with you, but skips away slowly,and leaves you alone.There is something like the gleamof water on that rock. A snake!Now a sounding rush through thewood, and a passing shadow. Aneagle! He brushes so close to thechild, that he strikes at the bird witha stick, and then watches him as heshoots up like a rocket, and, measur-ing the fields of air in ever-wideningcircles, hangs like a motionless speckupon the sky; though, measure hiswings across, and you will find he isnearer fifteen feet than fourteen.Here is a prize, though! Awee little native bear, barely a footlong,-a little grey beast, comicalbeyond expression, with broad flappedears,-sits on a tree within reach. Hemakes no resistance, but cuddles intoS* .. ..-. -c -.-.',;.'. --, i..,L..^,,t(..i *. ,.i^ '^ tS

24 THE LOST CHILD.the child's bosom, and eats a leaf asthey go along; while his mother sitsaloft, and grunts indignant at theabstraction of her offspring, but, onthe whole, takes it pretty comfortably,and goes on with her dinner of pep-permint leaves.What a short day it has been!Here is the sun getting low, and themagpies and jackasses beginning totune up before roosting.He would turn and go back tothe river. Alas! which way?He was lost in the bush. Heturned back and went, as he thought,the way he had come, but soon arrivedat a tall, precipitous cliff, which, bysome infernal magic, seemed to havegot between him and the river. Thenhe broke down, and that strange mad-ness came on him which comes even

tHe was lost in the Busk.

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THE LOST CHILD. 27on strong men when lost in the forest;a despair, a confusion of intellect,which has cost many a man his life.Think what it must be with a child!He was fully persuaded that thecliff was between him and home, andthat he must climb it. Alas! everystep he took aloft carried him furtherfrom the river and the hope of safety;and when he came to the top, justat dark, he saw nothing but cliff aftercliff, range after range, all around him.He had been wandering through steepgullies all day unconsciously, and hadpenetrated far into the mountains.Night was coming down, still andcrystal clear, and the poor little ladwas far away from help or hope, goinghis last long journey alone.Partly perhaps walking, and partlysitting down and weeping, he gotB

28 THE LOST CHILD.through the night; and when thesolemn morning came up, again hewas still tottering along the leadingrange, bewildered; crying, from time totime, " Mother, mother !"' still nursinghis little bear, his only companion, tohis bosom, and holding still in his handa few poor flowers he had gatheredthe day before. Up and on all day,and at evening, passing out of thegreat zone of timber, he came on thebald, thunder-smitten summit ridge,where one ruined tree held up itsskeleton, arms against the sunset, andthe wind came keen and frosty. So,with failing, feeble legs,, upward still,towards the region of the granite andthe snow; towards the eyrie of thekite and the eagle.

11'e came on tMe bald, thunder- smitten summil ridge,.:""'* f ::i' .* -- .. :., ig

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THE LOST CHILD. 31Brisk as they all were at Garoopna,none were so brisk as Cecil and Sam.Charles Hawker wanted to come withthem, but Sam asked him to go withJim; and, long before the others wereready, our two had strapped theirblankets to their saddles, and followedby Sam's dog Rover, now getting alittle grey about the nose, cantered offup the river.Neither spoke at first. They knewwhat a solemn task they had beforethem; and, while acting as thougheverything depended on speed, guessedwell that their search was only for alittle corpse, which, if they had luck,they would find stiff and cold undersome tree or cray.Cecil began: "Sam, depend on itthat child has crossed the river to thisside. If he had been on the plains,

32 THE LOST CHILD.he would have been seen from adistance in a few hours."" I quite agree," said Sam. "Letus go down on this side till we areopposite the hut, and search for marksby the river-side."So they agreed; and in half anhour were opposite the hut, and, ridingacross to it to ask a few questions,found the poor mother sitting on thedoor-step, with her apron over herhead, rocking" herself to and fro." We have come to help you,mistress," said Sam. "How do youthink he is gone?"She said, with frequent bursts ofgrief," that "some days before he hadmentioned having seen white childrenacross the water, who beckoned himto cross and play; that she, knowingwell that they were fairies, or perhaps

"We have come to help you, Mistress."_ *Ss-'..

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THE LOST CHILD. 35worse, had warned him solemnly notto mind them; but that she had verylittle doubt that they had helped himover and carried him away to theforest; and that her husband would notbelieve in his having crossed the river.""Why, it is not knee-deep acrossthe shallow," said Cecil." Let us cross again," said Sam: "hemay be drowned, but I don't think it."In a quarter of an hour from startingthey found, slightly up the stream, oneof the child's socks, which in his hurryto dress he had forgotten. Here braveRover took up the trail like a blood-hound, and before evening stopped atthe foot of a lofty cliff."Can he have gone up here ?"said Sam, as they were brought upby the rock."Most likely," said Cecil. "Lost

36 THE LOST CHILD.children always climb from height toheight. I have heard it often remarkedby old bush hands. Why they do so,God, who leads them, only knows;but the fact is beyond denial. AskRover what he thinks ?"The brave old dog was half-way up,looking back for them. It took themnearly till dark to get their horses up;and, as there was no moon, and theway was getting perilous, they deter-mined to camp, and start again in themorning.They spread their blankets and laydown side by side. Sam had thought,from Cecil's proposing to come withhim in preference to the others, thathe would speak of a subject nearly'concerning them both; but Cecil wentoff to sleep and made no sign; andSam, ere he dozed, said to himself,'

THE LOST CHILD. 37"If he don't speak this journey, Iwill. It is unbearable that we shouldnot come to some understanding.Poor Cecil!"At early dawn they caught up theirhorses, which had been hobbled withthe stirrup leathers, and started afresh.Both were more silent than ever, andthe dog, with his nose to the ground,led them slowly along the rocky ribof the mountain, ever going higherand higher."It is inconceivable," said Sam,"that the poor child can have comeup here. There is Tuckerimbid closeto our right, five thousand feet abovethe river. Don't you think we mustbe mistaken?""The dog disagrees with you,"said Cecil. " He has something beforehim not very far off. Watch him."

38 THE LOST CHILD.The trees, had become dwarfed andscattered; they were getting out ofthe region of trees; the real forestzone was now below them, and theysaw they were emerging towards abald elevated down, and that a fewhundred yards before them was adead tree, on the highest branch ofwhich sat an eagle."The dog has stopped," said Cecil;"the end is near.""See," said Sam, "there is a hand-kerchief under the tree.""That is the boy himself," saidCecil.They were up to him and off ina moment. There he lay, dead andstiff, one hand still grasping the flowershe had. gathered on his last happy play-day, and the other laid as a pillow,between the soft cold cheek and the

There he lay, dead and stif.

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THE LOST CHILD. 41rough cold stone. His midsummerholiday was over, his long journeywas ended. He had found out atlast what lay beyond the shining riverhe had watched so. long.That is the whole story, GeneralHalbert; and who should know it betterthan I, Geoffry Hamlyn?THE END.C


ILLUSTRATED WORKS BY L. FROLICH.LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE.Pictured in Twenty Plates, and NarratedBY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE.Author of" The Heir of Redclyfe."Crown 4to. cloth gilt.THE LOST CHILD.BY HENRY KINGSLEY.With Eight Illustrations. Crown 4to. cloth gilt.THE PLEASANT TALE OF PUSS AND ROBIN, ANDTHEIR FRIENDS, KITTY AND BOB.Told in Twelve Pictures, with RhymesBY TOM HOOD.Crown 4to. cloth gilt.A BOOK OF GOLDEN DEEDSOF ALL TIMES AND ALL COUNTRIES.Gathered and Narrated anewBY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE.Author of " The Heir of Redclyfe."With Twenty Illustrations. Crown 8vo. cloth gilt.WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL.STORIES FOR CHILDREN.BY THE AUTHOR OF "ST. OLAVES."With Eight Illustrations. Second Edition. Extra Fcap. 8vo. 4s. 6d.NINE YEARS OLD.BY THE AUTHOR OF "ST. OLAVES."Uniform with the above.With Eight Illustrations.MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON.

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