Next day all the Sydney newspapers had coverage of his achievements. Each carryied a slightly different angle but all were totally enthusiastic especially about the tricks that had been performed while walking. Henry and Tom had met Ada and John at the Norfolk for breakfast.
Henry read one aloud to Tom and Ada.
‘A large crowd of no less than 9,000 persons witnessed a feat of not insignificant skill and daring with the crossing of Middle Harbour by renowned funambulist, Mr H. Giles, also referred to as the Australian Blondin, during which he set a new record.
Eclipsing the recent local record set by James Elson by a considerable margin and even superseding the famous Charles Blondin’s distance over the Niagara Gorge, Giles walked a distance of 1,420 feet, high above the waters of the harbour.
He had previously cheated death during a walk between two anchored ships, during which his feet departed the rope and certain death was avoided only by the clutching of the walking rope as he fell.
The harbour walk commenced at two o’clock when the crowd turned to see the source of a signaling pistol shot and was greeted with the sight of Giles on what only moments before had been an empty rope.
Due to the dizzying height it was not possible to accurately see his expression but this correspondent can report that he was wearing a dark tunic, short red cape and most oddly a yellow turban.
It was not known the significance of the turban, suffice to say he looked a colourful sight.
The walk was made with what appeared considerable ease, assisted only by a long pole used to assist in maintaining balance.
At one point Giles examined the crowd with a small telescope, a task he repeated again at the middle of his walk while actually sitting on the rope in a comfortable repose.
His daring was further demonstrated through balancing on one leg only, then the other while at a great height above the water.
After a period of no less than 25 minutes, the local marvel of the tightrope completed his performance when he walked on the rope amongst trees and was hidden from view.
A repeat performance will take place on Sunday.’
…
Overnight the wind had turned to the northwest, bringing with it unusually hot temperatures for the time of year. John arranged extra water, soda and ale to quench the thirsty crowds.
‘It is like a summer heat wave,’ panted Tom as they made their way up the track to the starting point on the western headland. The others were silent as they concentrated on reaching the shade of the tent. Lunch was sparse owing to a lack of appetite by all and conversation seemed similarly suppressed by the oppressive heat. Even the normally noisy cicadas were silent.
Tom went to make last minute checks on the rope and returned 20 minutes later.
‘The rope had slackened since yesterday, but I have had the men tighten it up and it appears good. I have sent two men out in a boat to check the stablising ropes, but I expect they will be OK.’
‘Thanks Tom. What time is it?’
‘Fifteen minutes past one’
‘I will have a brief rest then get changed,’ said Henry as he squeezed Ada’s hand gently and rose and entered the tent.
*
He went through his usual pre-walk mental preparations on the platform. He centred himself in the world around him, slowed his thoughts and cleared his mind. Once again he stepped out onto the rope, walking till he had just emerged from the obscuring trees and stood and waited till the sound of Tom’s pistol shot set him off on his journey. Step, step, step.
He followed the same performance routine as the previous day, however, today the sun beat down on him and the air felt close and sticky. Sweat drenched his hair under the turban and more trickled down his spine. Even his feet felt wet in his pumps. He felt lethargic and the balance pole unusually heavy. Today sitting on the rope at the halfway mark was not just part of the act, it was a necessary move to provide some respite. His yellow handkerchief was soon sodden from mopping his brow.
Regaining his upright position he started towards the opposite shore. The distance meant the dip in the rope was not insignificant and it took more effort to walk up the 700 feet of gradual incline of the artificial hill.
Once again he performed his balancing on each leg before setting off the last 350 feet to the end. Step, step, step. Sweat ran into his eyes making them sting. He was over the shore now and he pushed on, panting heavily. Fifty feet from the end and with muscles complaining he took a step and with the weight shifting forward onto the right leg, he felt a cramp spasm the thigh muscle and with that leg now being unable to take the weight of his body and pole with any control and with his weight forward that prevented a shift of control back to his left leg he lost balance and fell.
*
From his position at the end of the rope, Tom could tell Henry was struggling. His pace on the final part of the walk was slower, there was more wobble with the leg balances and he could see his face was flushed and dripping with sweat. At 50 feet from the end and Tom relaxed as the walk was all but done. Then Henry fell.
‘Henry!!’ shouted Tom as he started scrambling down the slope and called to the two workmen who were reclining in the shade further back on the headland. ‘Jack! Fred! I need help down here hurry!!’
Tom careered off trees and leapt from rock to rock before he managed to scramble beside Henry. There was blood on Henry’s head and his limbs were arranged at odd angles. Fearing the worst Tom shook Henry’s shoulder.
‘Henry, Henry! Can you hear me!’ No response. ‘You men, arrange a litter, quickly!’
Tom examined Henry more closely. He saw that he had a gash on his forehead, his left wrist was at an odd angle but most of all it was Henry’s right leg that had him worried. As Tom pulled Henry straight he saw that the leg had some worrisome bends in it showing through his tights and the right foot pointed in a direction that was totally abnormal. From up the hill he heard the two workers hurrying back down the hill. They came to a breathless halt with two long branches.
‘How the hell do you propose we carry him with two sticks?’
‘Like this sir,’ one replied as they removed their shirts. ‘We will need yours as well.’ The worker slid the two branches inside the shirts that then formed the support of the litter.
They carefully manoeuvred Henry onto the makeshift stretcher and with great care started off down the rocky slope. Henry’s fall had been seen by some of the spectators and several men scrambled up the slope to meet them. This made the job of getting Henry down the hill easier as the litter was passed from hand to hand and those higher on the hill scrambled down to take their turn. Soon they reached the bottom of the slope where the crowd, alerted, as any crowd seems to be when there was an incident, surged forward.
‘'Step back! Step back! Clear a path!’ someone shouted. ‘Get back, let them through!’ Some men took the initiative and pushed people back, clearing a way through the crowd to the dock. A rowing boat was along side and Henry was quickly lifted aboard.
‘Take us to what you think is the fastest boat,’ demanded Tom as the lines were cast off and the oars pulled hard into the water.
*
From her vantage point at the opposite end of the rope Ada saw Henry fall. Her screams alerted her father who rushed to her side. ‘What is it Ada?’ he demanded.
Ada had her hand out, using a tree to support herself. ‘It’s Henry,’ she sobbed. ‘He has fallen near the far side. I cannot see him any more.’
‘Where? How close to the far side?’
‘Just, just on the far side!’
John grabbed his daughter around the waist to help support her. ‘Come on, we will go over in the boat and see what has happened.’
Together they made their way down the rough-hewn path to their private landing where their steam launch was moored. ‘Quickly skipper, there has been accident, we need to get to the far side as fast as possible.’
Minutes later amid the hissing steam of the engine, the vessel was underway and heading to the opposite headland. They were just approaching the opposite shore after weaving their way between the throng of vessels when they saw Tom waving from a boat being rowed from the floating dock. Soon the boats were side-by-side.
A distraught Ada tried to scramble from her vessel to that carrying Henry, but was restrained by her father. ‘What happened?’ she cried, seeing Henry, head bloodied and lying prone in the bottom of the boat.
‘I am not sure; he fell just before the platform. He has not come around yet and hopefully he won’t for a while, he has injured his right leg badly. We need to transfer him over to you and get him to a doctor,’ said Tom.
They lifted Henry on the makeshift litter and passed him from one vessel to the other and with a full head of steam, the launch carrying the group raced back towards Sydney. Ada’s tears had stopped but her look of despair remained and she clung to Henry’s undamaged hand. Soon moans alerted all that Henry was regaining consciousness.
‘Henry, can you hear me?’ urged Ada.
‘What happened, where am I?’ murmured Henry.
‘You fell and have injured yourself. We are on the launch heading back to Sydney. Don’t move.’
Henry moaned and fell silent again. Ada, took her handkerchief and leaned to the side of the boat to wet it from the salt spray being flung up by the bow, before mopping the blood away from Henry’s brow. All the way back she alternated between sitting in a stunned stupor and busying herself tending to Henry.
*
As the launch approached Circular Quay Tom told the skipper to land him near Fort Macquarie on the eastern side of the inlet. ‘Let me get ashore just inside the fort and then stand off the shore till I return with a cart.’'
John shrugged off his coat. ‘Here, take my jacket, we cannot have you dashing about bare-chested.’ In the excitement of the events, Tom had forgotten he had surrendered his shirt to form part of the litter.
Tom sprung from the launch as it briefly touched the dock and with his foot pushed the bow out to make it easier for the launch to exit the shore. Within minutes he had secured the services of a cart with driver and returned to the dock where he waved for the launch to come in.
The transfer of Henry was smooth, with a small crowd of onlookers gathered to see the unusually clad man being offloaded from the boat in the makeshift stretcher. The cart made its way slowly along the wharf then rattled its way the three quarters of a mile along Macquarie St to Sydney Hospital. John leapt from the cart and dashed inside, emerging a few minutes later with a doctor and two orderlies in tow.
*
The doctor and his assistants did their best resetting the two bad breaks in the leg and straightening the wrist before each was wrapped in the recently introduced plaster of Paris bandages.
Ada refused to leave Henry’s bedside and spent the night in the crowded ward on the third floor, dozing in a hard wooden chair. Despite her tiredness she was constantly woken by the coughs and ramblings of the other patients. Henry remained quiet throughout the night having received a dose of morphine just before his bones were reset.
John and Tom arrived together not long after dawn, Tom having spent the night at the Norfolk Hotel at John’s insistence. The sight and extent of plastering on Henry’s leg caused Tom’s brow to furrow, but he kept his thoughts to himself. John meanwhile fussed over Ada, insisting that she accompany him back to the hotel where she could refresh herself and rest for a few hours and return at noon. Tom would sit with Henry till then.
Within an hour Henry opened his eyes, dull confusion evident till Tom spoke to him. ‘How are you my friend? You have given us all quite a scare.’
Henry turned his head to see where he was. ‘I am in
hospital?’
’Yes, don’t you remember falling? You almost made the end of the walk, but fell
onto rocks and broke a wrist and your leg is broken in several places, and
banged your head as well.’
‘I had a cramp in my thigh and my leg gave way. I remember movement and sun in my eyes but not much else. How is Ada?’
‘Sick with worry,’ responded Tom. ‘She spent the night here. John insisted she go back to the Norfolk to rest for a while. They will be back in a few hours.’
*
Just after noon Ada and John returned to the hospital. Ada looked much refreshed and rushed over to Henry and took his right hand. ‘My darling, how are you?’
Henry gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I am alive and that is the important thing. I fear I may not be able to dance for a while as it appears I have broken both my upper and lower leg and so will not be ambulatory for some time.’
‘I shall look after you. Father has said you must come and recuperate at the Norfolk. We don’t want to risk your recovery by staying here any longer than you need to and being exposed to hospitalism,’ voiced Ada with determination.
John turned from where he had been talking with Tom and joined the conversation.
‘It is all arranged. Tom will move your belongings to the Norfolk where you will stay as my guest. The risk of illness from hospitalism is too great here and it will allow Ada to care for you during your convalescence. The doctor can visit as required. Oh and one other thing, I see you have made the newspapers again,’ said John and handed the Sydney Morning Herald to Ada.
She read:
DARE DEVIL NARROWLY CHEATS DEATH
‘Renowned funambulist Mr H. Giles who on Saturday amazed onlookers with his amazing feat of crossing Middle Harbour on Saturday, provided onlookers with a different and near-tragic end to his performance yesterday.
While performing his feat on an unusually hot day, Mr Giles appeared to stumble near the end of the walk.
Witnesses say he had reached the Eastern shore when he plunged to the ground among rocks and trees.
The crowd was left in bewilderment as to the cause or subsequent condition of the performer as he was carried on a hastily made stretcher down the steep hill, through the crowd and onto a boat.
He was subsequently transferred onto a steam launch, which then rapidly departed towards Sydney.
Our enquiries reveal that Mr Giles had suffered fractured limbs but was currently not in a life threatening condition.’