The Race to Kangaroo Cliff

by Alexander McCall Smith

  Mr Rigger supervised the lowering of the liberty boat that would collect the precious cargo of medical supplies. Will was to row this boat, he said, and he could take Ben and Badger to give him a hand. Poppy could go too, if she wished.

  Will and his new friends set off. A short row brought them to the side of the plane, where they tied the boat to a ring on one of the plane’s floats. The pilot greeted them cheerfully, laughing as Will apologised for having arrived late the day before. “Easily done, Will,” he said, before adding, “and sorry to hear about that boat of yours. You would have been in real trouble if these people hadn’t been sailing past.”

  It did not take long to unload the supplies. Once that was done, the pilot helped them untie their boat, and then stood on one of the floats to wave to them as they rowed back to the Tobermory. Joining the others on the deck, Ben, Badger, Poppy and Will watched as the plane took off, bumping at speed across the bay before lifting itself off the surface of the water. Once aloft, the plane circled the Tobermory, dipping its wings in salute before climbing up into the sky and disappearing out of sight.

  Will had brought an empty backpack with him, and it was in this he now carefully packed the boxes of medicine.

  “We’ll take you ashore now, Will,” Mr Rigger said. “Would you like anybody to come with you to say goodbye?”

  Will looked around him. “I’d like Ben and Badger to come,” he said. “And Poppy too.”

  Poppy added her voice. “Can Fee come as well?” she asked.

  Mr Rigger nodded. “That’s fine,” he said.

  “And one more,” Will suddenly added.

  Mr Rigger smiled. “No problem with that,” he said. “Who’s it to be?”

  Will pointed to Henry. “The dog,” he said simply. “Can the dog come for the ride?”

  Henry could tell he was being talked about and began to wag his tail enthusiastically.

  Mr Rigger smiled. “I don’t see why not,” he replied. “Right,” he continued in a business-like manner, “let’s get going.”

  All six of them – seven counting Henry – stepped aboard the rowing boat. Ben and Badger took their place at the oars – they were both experienced rowers – while Mr Rigger took the tiller in order to steer the boat. Will, who was familiar with the waters of the bay, made for the bow so that he could guide them through the rocks near the beach. Poppy and Fee sat amidships, with Henry between them. Fee held his collar just in case he got too excited and tried to jump into the water for a swim.

  The tide was with them, and it didn’t take long to get to the beach. When they arrived, Will jumped out into the surf and pulled the boat ashore. Then the rest of them disembarked. Henry, who was pleased to be back on dry land, dashed around the beach, chasing his tail, barking with delight.

  Will pointed to the thick band of trees which backed onto the beach and explained that although it looked like an impossible barrier, there was a path through. If he followed that, he would arrive home by sunset.

  “By sunset?!” exclaimed Mr Rigger “That’s hours from now. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

  Will nodded. “I’ve done this trip hundreds of times,” he said. “I know this country well.”

  As he spoke, a flock of large coloured birds rose from the trees with a raucous squawking.

  “Galahs,” said Poppy, pointing to the birds as they rose up in the sky.

  “Noisy fellows,” said Will.

  Ben had never seen birds like these before, and he watched in fascination. Everything about Australia was so colourful – and so different. And there seemed to be constant birdsong, filling the air and echoing up into the empty sky. I like this country, he said to himself. I like it very much.

  Mr Rigger suggested that they walk with Will as far as the path through the trees. Then they would say goodbye to him and make their way back to the Tobermory. Badger felt sad; he liked Will and it seemed a pity to be losing a new friend so soon after meeting him. But that is part and parcel of living on a boat. You meet all sorts of people in the places you stop in, but you always have to say goodbye and move on. It sometimes seemed to Badger that life was one goodbye after another. If only you could stop the world for a little while and be in the same place with the same friends, doing the same thing for just a little bit longer. But that, he knew, is not the way things are.

  While Badger was deep in these thoughts, Poppy suddenly noticed that Henry was no longer with them.

  “Anybody seen Henry?” she asked.

  Ben looked around. “He was here a moment ago,” he said.

  “I saw him too,” said Badger. “But now …”

  Mr Rigger reached into his pocket and took out his bosun’s whistle. Raising it to his lips, he blew three shrill blasts and then looked out across the beach. “Henry always answers to that,” he said. “It never fails. He thinks it means biscuits.”

  But this time it did fail. They waited for several minutes, and when there was still no sign of Henry, Mr Rigger blew the whistle once more. Again, Henry failed to appear.

  Will had an idea. “I think we should look and see what the sand has to tell us,” he said. “It’ll have a clear enough story to tell.”

  It was the obvious thing to do, and they all walked behind Will as he began to track the dog’s paw prints across the beach.

  “He headed towards the trees,” said Will. “Maybe he saw something – a kangaroo or a wallaby. He might have gone after it.”

  They reached the point where the sand ended and the trees began. Sure enough, there were Henry’s telltale paw-prints following the path through the trees. Will pointed them out to Mr Rigger and then asked him what he thought they should do.

  Mr Rigger frowned. “I suppose we could wait and see if he comes back,” he suggested.

  “But he might not,” said Poppy. “If he’s chasing a roo or something, he could easily get lost.”

  Will agreed that this was a danger. “Even our own dogs sometimes get lost in this heavy bush,” he said, pointing to the thick vegetation. “And a dog who doesn’t know this place is even more likely to lose his way.”

  Mr Rigger rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But we can’t all wander off into the forest,” he said. “They’re expecting us back at the ship. If we don’t turn up soon they’ll send out a search party and …”

  “… and the search party itself could get lost,” added Poppy. “That happened once at Alice Springs. They had to send out a search party to find the search party.”

  Ben thought about this for a moment. “And if the second search party got lost too,” he said, “then I suppose they’d have to send out a third search party to look for the second search party …”

  Badger had an idea. “Why don’t you go back to the Tobermory, sir?” he said to Mr Rigger. “You can tell the Captain that we’ve gone to look for Henry and then come back for us.”

  Mr Rigger looked doubtful. “But I don’t want you getting lost,” he said. “You don’t know this land.”

  “But I do,” said Will. “I was born here. I know it like the back of my hand.”

  Poppy was nodding her head in agreement. “And I know a bit about the bush too,” she said. “Remember, I come from Alice Springs.”

  Mr Rigger was reluctantly won over. “All right,” he said. He looked at his watch. “How long do you need?”

  They all looked at Will, who looked up at the sun and then scratched his head. “It depends on how far he’s gone. I’ll have to set off for our place soon so that I can get home by dark. So, if you come back in an hour, we should be here with Henry – with any luck.”

  Mr Rigger agreed to this and they all made their way back to the boat. Once it had been pushed out into the water, he prepared the oars and started to row. “Good luck,” he called out as the boat nosed into the surf and began to pull away from the shore.

  “Right,” said Will, taking command of the situation, “everyone follow me.”

  They fell into line behind him. Poppy, be
ing the most experienced bush-walker after Will, took her place at the end of the line, where she would be able to keep an eye open for any dangers that might be lurking behind them. This is one of the key rules when you are in the bush. Everything might be all right in front, but it can be a different matter altogether behind. For all you know, something could be stalking you, and unless you turn around from time to time to check, you might never know it was there.

  They walked for about twenty minutes before Will suddenly held up a hand and brought them to a halt.

  “Hold on, everybody,” he called out. “Henry left the track here.”

  They crowded round as Will pointed to the place where the dog’s prints veered off deeper into the bush.

  “What happened here?” asked Ben.

  Will shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose something distracted him,” he suggested. “Or he went off after whatever it was he had been following.”

  They waited for Will to say more as he shaded his eyes from the sun, scanning the horizon for any sign of Henry.

  “What should we do now?” asked Fee.

  “We must carry on looking for him,” said Poppy. “We can’t leave him out here.” She glanced around for support and saw that Ben and Badger were both nodding their heads in agreement.

  “But if we do that, we’ll have to go off the track,” Fee pointed out, “and we could easily get lost.”

  “But Will knows his way round here,” argued Badger. He turned to Will. “You know where we are, don’t you, Will?”

  Will hesitated. “Yes,” he said. “And I’ve never got lost before.”

  Fee looked anxious. “But there’s always a first time.”

  “I vote we carry on looking,” said Ben. “Will’s good at tracking. You’ll be able to follow Henry’s paw-prints, won’t you, Will, just like you’ve been doing up till now?”

  Will said that he should be able to do that, although it depended on the nature of the ground. If it became muddy it would be a different matter. It also depended on whether there had been any other animals around – a troop of kangaroos would quickly make tracking impossible because they would obscure Henry’s paw-prints.

  Although Fee had her doubts, the others all agreed that they should continue to look for Henry, and that was what they did. With Will at their head, they began to make their way slowly across a wide stretch of grassland that was punctuated here and there by clumps of tall trees. It was difficult going, as the land was rough and there were many potholes and places where the ground fell away into riverbeds that were dry now, but which during the rainy season – ‘the wet’ as he had explained to them before – would fill with water. Nobody wanted to show fear, though all of them – with the exception of Will – felt anxious about what they were doing. Taking it in turns to call out for Henry, their voices sounded small and insignificant in the middle of this wild and empty place.

  “I wish we could go back,” muttered Fee under her breath.

  “Are you all right?” asked Ben, who was walking beside her.

  “Not really,” she whispered. “But don’t tell the others.”

  Poppy, though, had overheard, and was worried about Fee. “Listen, Will,” she said. “Perhaps we should get back to the beach. Once Mr Rigger returns, we can ask him what to do.”

  “And Henry might find his way back by himself,” said Ben. “Dogs often do that, you know.”

  Will thought for a moment. “If that’s what you want,” he said.

  “I think it is,” said Poppy. “We’ve been calling and calling, and there’s still no sign of him.”

  Will did not argue. “All right,” he said. “Let’s turn round.”

  And it was at that moment that Badger spotted something that made his heart miss a beat.

  “What’s that?” he said, pointing to a dark shape in the distance.

  Will looked where Badger was pointing. “Oh no . . .” he muttered. And then, once again, “Oh no . . .”

  It was clear to everybody that Will was worried. Up until then, he had seemed confident, but now they saw his expression change. It showed fear, and it was unmistakeable.

  The thing that Badger had seen was long and dark, and it had now moved slightly.

  “What is it?” asked Badger. “It’s hard to see from this distance.”

  “A croc!” said Will. “There’s a creek full of them over there.”

  The others all peered at the distant shape. It might easily be missed, or might be mistaken for a fallen tree trunk, but now that Will had identified it, it was easier to see what it really was. Ben, who had brought a pair of binoculars with him, was able to get a better view. “It’s a long way off,” he said. “And it doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere.”

  Will shook his head. “He’ll know we’re here,” he said. “We’re upwind of him and crocs have a very good sense of smell.”

  “What do we do?” asked Poppy.

  “We move away as fast as we can,” said Will.

  “Should we run?” asked Ben.

  “Just follow me,” Will said. “We’ll have to get back to the track by a different route – that croc is blocking our way.”

  They set off with Will in the lead again. The rough ground stopped them from going quickly, but nevertheless they made good progress. When they stopped, though, to see what the crocodile was doing, they saw that the distance between them and the large creature had shrunk considerably.

  “It’s following us. Those fellows move fast, even on dry land,” said Will. “They don’t look as if they can run quickly, but you’d be surprised.” He paused. “Okay, everybody, let’s get going again.”

  He took a few steps and then stopped, calling out to everybody to stand still.

  “What’s wrong now?” asked Poppy.

  Will lowered his voice. “There’s another one,” he said. “Just ahead of us. Look.”

  They all stared at the shape in the grass ahead of them. Will was right: an extremely large crocodile had appeared from a ditch and was staring back at them.

  Will looked about him frantically. “All right, everybody. See those two trees over there?” he said, pointing to two large trees that were growing nearby.

  “Yes,” said Poppy. “Should we climb them?”

  “Yes,” said Will. “We’ve got no choice. But don’t run. Just walk very quietly and very slowly towards them. We don’t want to disturb that big fellow ahead of us. He’s watching.”

  The chilling words struck fear into each and every one of them. Ben thought to himself, Please don’t let me die, please don’t let me die. Fee thought, We shouldn’t have come out here – I should have known better. And Poppy and Badger, in their terror, thought similar things.

  They did as Will ordered, each of them moving as carefully as they could. At one point the large crocodile closer to them slithered forward, sizing up his prey.

  When they reached the first of the trees, Will said, “Ben and Badger, you take this tree. Climb up as high as you can. I’ll help Fee and Poppy up that other tree and come back. It doesn’t look strong enough to take three.”

  Once Ben and Badger were safely up, the others crossed the few yards to the other tree. Will helped the girls up before rushing back to join Ben and Badger.

  They were just in time. By the time they had reached safety in the branches, both crocodiles had arrived at the bottom of the respective tree trunks and raised their great heads to look up into the foliage above. As they did so, they emitted the most spine-tingling, blood-curdling hissing sound – a sort of high-pitched clearing of the throat – that expressed a mixture of anger and delight at the prospect of a tasty meal. It sounded rather like this: Gghhharrreugh! You didn’t need to be an expert to know this sound was intended to terrify the wits out of anyone who heard it.

  The tree the two girls were sharing was not quite as big as the one in which the boys were perched, and it had fewer branches. This meant they were only just out of reach of the crocodile below. This seemed to
infuriate the beast, which lunged upwards, its great jaws open to reveal a set of vicious, razor-sharp teeth. Both Poppy and Fee curled their legs upwards, hugging the branch they were sitting upon, hoping that it would not bend under their weight and deliver them to the hungry predator below. Fortunately, it was firm enough and the crocodile dropped back, disappointed at having so narrowly missed its prey. But it knew there was time: it had chased prey up trees many times before and had all day to wait until exhaustion caused its victims to tire and lose their grip. Crocodiles are patient creatures; they think nothing of lurking immobile in the water for hours on end, with only the tip of their snouts giving away their presence, waiting for some unfortunate creature to come along.

  Will called out from the neighbouring tree. “Are you two all right?”

  “I think so.” Poppy shouted. “As long as this branch holds out.”

  Then Fee shouted at the top of her voice, “How long will we have to stay here, Will? When will the crocs go away?”

  Like so many awkward questions, this one hung in the air unanswered for a while. At last, Will replied, “It could be some time.”

  “Just hang on!” Badger shouted across. “Help will be on its way.”

  “Did you hear that?” whispered Fee to Poppy. “Badger says help is on its way.”

  Sometimes, when everything looks hopeless, it is tempting to think positively. Poppy realised that that was what Badger was doing, but what he had said was no more than wishful thinking. “I can’t think how he knows that,” she said to Fee. “We’re miles from anywhere, and even if Mr Rigger came to look for us, how would he know where to start? We’re a long way off the track now.”

  “We could try shouting,” suggested Fee.

  Poppy looked doubtful. “There’s nobody to hear us,” she said. “We could shout until our lungs collapsed and it would make no difference.”

  Fee was silent. Then she said, “What if we got some sticks from the tree and managed to put them in the crocodile’s jaws to stop them closing them and biting us?”

  Poppy smiled. “I don’t think so, Fee,” she said. “If we got anywhere near those creatures it would be snap! and that would be the end of us.”