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Updated: April 30, 2025
Up had come his shaggy head, his dirty face, his rolling eyes, and he had laughed and laughed at the flowers. He was a drunken man, our old nurse Belle had told her, but Sue was sure he was a giant. "You are wrong," I said with dignity. "He is either a Junk or a Docker." The lid was spiked down after that, and our visitor never appeared again.
The 'James Caird' remained moored to the ice, with the 'Dudley Docker' and the 'Stancomb Wills' in line behind her. The darkness had become complete, and we strained our eye to see the fragments of ice that threatened us.
Finding no water in the pass, we went to the more easterly of the two creeks; it was very small compared with the Docker. It was now dusk, and we had to camp without water. The day was hot.
I had decided to take the 'James Caird' myself, with Wild and eleven men. This was the largest of our boats, and in addition to her human complement she carried the major portion of the stores. Worsley had charge of the 'Dudley Docker' with nine men, and Hudson and Crean were the senior men on the 'Stancomb Wills'. Soon after breakfast the ice closed again.
Apparently this infliction was due to constant soaking with sea-water, the chafing of wet clothes, and exposure. I was very anxious about the 'Dudley Docker', and my eyes as well as my thoughts were turned eastward as we carried the stores ashore; but within half an hour the missing boat appeared, labouring through the spume-white sea, and presently she reached the comparative calm of the bay.
And at noon, way over in Hoboken, Marsh had overheard a German docker say to the man eating lunch beside him, "I hear dot tamn fool anarchist Marsh is raising hell ofer dere in New York." "But I wasn't raising hell," he drawled. "I was over here studying literature."
He was constantly driven to attend evening meetings where he heard discussed those social conditions which bear so hard upon the weak and sick. The crippled boy lived until he was fifteen and by that time the regeneration of his foster father was complete, the young docker was committed for life to the bettering of social conditions.
The racing was very fair, and, as luck would have it, the Dawson horses won all the big money, and, as they started at longish odds, they must have made a pot of money, and Starlight too, as he'd gone in a docker for their stable. This made them better friends than ever, and it was Dawson here and Lascelles there all over the course.
In a despatch to Governor Sir G. Gipps, dated 5th October, 1841, Lord Stanley says, "Contrasting the accounts of the Aborigines given by Mr. Docker with those given by Mr. Mackay, and the different terms on which those gentlemen appear to be with them in the same vicinity, I cannot divest myself of the apprehension that the fault in this case lies with the colonists rather than with the natives.
His boat had the heels of the 'James Caird', with the 'Stancomb Wills' in tow. I told him he could try, but he must not lose sight of the 'James Caird'. Just as he left me a heavy snow-squall came down, and in the darkness the boats parted. I saw the 'Dudley Docker' no more. This separation caused me some anxiety during the remaining hours of the night.
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