by Bear Grylls
‘Well, gee, what were we thinking? I mean, eating out of proper tins with proper hot food in them when we could have had bugs?’
‘Well, I can do the proper hot food bit. Unless you’d prefer them cold.’
‘Hot,’ she said decisively. ‘Take my mind off what I’m actually eating.’
And so Beck used the machete to sharpen the end of a stick, and they skewered the grubs and held them over a flame. They had to judge it right – too close and they would turn to cinders, which was no good to anyone. Beck knew from experience that if you ate them cold, they tasted of nothing on the outside and cold snot inside. At least cooking warmed them up and you could almost imagine they were mini sausages. Almost.
In between the grubs they feasted on the rock figs, which were almost as unappetizing. The fruit split open to reveal a red cavity lined with hundreds of seeds. There was plenty to sink your teeth into, but it tasted and felt like they were chewing on old cardboard.
They washed the meal down with swigs of water from the bottle, after carefully boiling it first. It was the first time on this trip that they had drunk water from the river rather than a tap or a bottled source. It felt softer in their mouths, with a tang that made them smack their lips.
‘May I just say . . .’ Brihony hiccupped. ‘That was the most disgusting meal I have ever—’
She stopped and stared at Beck as, out of nowhere, a noise filled the air.
It was a sound that no machine could make – but it wasn’t an animal either; a bass drone like a cross between a cloud of angry insects and the thrumming of bicycle wheels on a pavement. It seemed to vibrate out of the ground itself, and rose and fell and rose again as it echoed across the Outback.
‘What the heck is that?’
‘Bullroarer!’ Beck exclaimed. He leaped to his feet. It took him a moment, and then he had it. ‘There, see?’
A few kilometres in the distance, away from the river, a red sandstone bluff rose up out of the shimmering plain. At the top was a black dot. It was a human figure, and it seemed to be waving one arm. Something whirled around its head like a circling bird.
‘Back when he was training me, Pindari always used a bullroarer to summon me. I think it’s him!’
Chapter 15
The noise died away. Beck blinked, and the figure was gone. He glared at where it had been.
‘Do you think it really was Pindari?’ Brihony asked.
‘I couldn’t say . . . but who else would be using a bullroarer in the middle of nowhere?’
‘Hmm. How about – well – anyone?’
Beck smiled. She had a point.
There was no sound on earth quite like a bullroarer. The one thing it did not sound like was a bull roaring. You spun a shaped piece of wood around your head on a piece of twisted cord. This made the wood rotate, and as it cut through the air it produced that sound. It was thousands of years old, used by ancient peoples all over the globe to send messages across long distances. And Pindari had been a master.
‘Put it this way. Even if it wasn’t Pindari, no one uses those things just for fun. They’re meant to communicate. Someone was trying to communicate with us. Get our attention.’
‘OK,’ Brihony agreed. ‘That bit worked. Now what?’
‘Well, he wouldn’t just be saying “Yoo-hoo, here I am.” If he was saying anything, it would be “Come to me.” ’
Beck wasn’t quite sure he dared to believe his own logic. But deep down in his bones, he knew that the man had been Pindari.
They stared across the plain. The man had been so close. On straight, level ground, Beck could run that distance in a few minutes. But it was anything but straight and level, and there were all manner of obstacles in between.
‘Or he could come to us . . .’ Brihony murmured.
‘But then, why announce it? Why not just turn up?’
‘Maybe we should go and ask him . . .?’ she suggested, her voice trailing off into a question.
Beck considered. It was more exciting than staying put until the evening, which had been the original plan. On the other hand, they had hardly any supplies or equipment. If they stayed where they were, they would expend less energy, and be in less danger. In any survival situation, staying put and waiting for rescue was usually the best idea. You needed a powerful reason to move off.
But he had a powerful reason. He had been brought here to track down Pindari, and the Jungun tribe needed what Pindari had. They might not get another chance like this. He couldn’t let it pass.
‘Maybe we should,’ he agreed. He stood up and ran through all the options in his mind. What could go wrong?
Answer: a lot, he thought grimly.
They had no food. Well, he knew how to find that.
They had no protection; but at least they were dressed for the Outback and he knew how to look after himself.
But the biggest risk was always dehydration. The hotter and more humid the place, the greater the risk. Lack of water could kill you in a matter of hours, and they only had one water bottle between them.
Dehydration was more than just being thirsty. With severe dehydration you actually stopped feeling thirsty. Meanwhile your heart would beat overtime, you would grow delirious and ultimately you would die. But before that, your body would just start packing in. Your muscles would lose their strength; your ability to concentrate would vanish; you might be unable to find help simply because your mind and body were too far gone.
Answer: don’t let it get to that stage. The water bottle held five litres, and Beck knew they could get to that bluff and back on two and a half each. And if they had to go further, thanks to Pindari, Beck knew other ways to get water.
‘So . . .?’ Brihony asked, watching him standing there, apparently doing nothing.
‘So. We need to know where we’re going.’
She pointed at the bluff where the figure had been. ‘That way?’
‘Yeah, but which way is that?’ The bluff was quite prominent, but apart from that there was nothing to distinguish it from any other mound of rock. If they started moving towards it, it could very easily get lost in the landscape. Beck scraped his heel into the ground, digging a straight line that pointed to where the man had been. That would help them tell it apart, at least from where they stood. Then he raised his left wrist and angled his watch, squinting across the face towards the sun.
‘Whatcha doin’?’
‘Southern hemisphere navigation.’ He was glad his watch had survived the river, even if his phone had not. It was certified to a hundred metres – it could handle a bit of wet. ‘Point twelve o’clock at the sun. Halfway between that and the hour hand is north. Northern hemisphere, other way round – point the hour hand at the sun. So, north is’ – he gestured with a chop of his hand – ‘that way. Means we’re heading . . .’
‘North-east,’ Brihony finished, looking at the angle between the direction Beck had indicated and the line he had drawn in the ground. ‘Almost exactly.’
‘Cool.’
Ganan and Barega sounded less pleased when Beck called across the river to them.
‘Great,’ Ganan shouted back. ‘So how do we follow you?’
‘We might be back by this evening,’ Beck told him. ‘But in case we’re not, I’ve left a mark on the ground, showing the direction. And I’ll leave a trail for you to follow along the way.’
‘How long are you planning on being gone?’ Brihony asked in surprise. ‘He wasn’t that far away.’
‘He wasn’t far away when we saw him,’ Beck corrected. ‘If that was Pindari and he’s moving about, then we just don’t know, do we? Or he might take us to wherever he’s put the memory stick.’
He could see from her thoughtful expression that she hadn’t considered that.
The two men were conversing; then they heard Ganan’s voice again.
‘I really don’t like you going off on your own.’
‘I can handle it! This is why you wanted me, remember?’
And I’m going anyway, Beck added silently. His mind was made up; he wasn’t asking permission. Finding Pindari could help the Jungun, it could help him learn more about his parents’ death, and it would help Brihony find justice for the people who’d hurt her mother. Everyone would get something out of this except Lumos, and that was just fine by him.
Still, he would rather go with Barega and Ganan’s blessing, rather than defying them.
Finally the answer came.
‘OK. If you come back today, then great. If not, we’ll follow you as best we can. If we lose you, we’ll just head back to this spot and wait. We’re trusting you a heck of a lot, Beck.’
No, Beck thought, you’re trusting Pindari, who trusted me.
But all he called back was: ‘See you later.’
He and Brihony went back down to the river, taking care once again to go to a different part of the shoreline, so they could each drink as much water as possible.
‘Best place to carry it,’ Beck said. ‘Inside you.’
They filled the bottle one last time and hurried back up to the camp. A full five-litre bottle is heavy, and Beck wasn’t looking forward to lugging it across the Outback, but he knew there was no choice – and besides, it would get lighter every time they drank from it.
He was also mighty glad to be moving away from the river. There were plenty of other dangerous creatures out there, but salties were the ones most likely to attack without warning.
There was one more thing to take care of, though Beck had been putting it off. He gazed out across the Outback one last time. The day had warmed up. In the shade of the boab’s thick trunk, it was merely hot. Out there, the sun hit down like a hammer.
‘I, uh . . .’ he began.
Brihony looked surprised at hearing the sudden hesitation in his voice.
‘I, uh . . . need you to – to look the other way for a moment.’
‘What for?’
‘Because I, uh – I need to . . . take my trousers off.’
She paused, then a disbelieving smile spread over her face. ‘Beck, I have seen boys in their dacks before.’
‘Yes, but, I – uh, I – uh . . . I need to take them off too.’
The smile vanished. ‘OK . . . Look, Beck, if you want to go, then . . .’
‘Just . . . look away? Please?’
She sighed and turned round. ‘Carry on, in your own time . . .’
After a short while he said, ‘OK, done.’
She turned round to see Beck with his trousers on again, solemnly placing his shorts over his head. He knotted the elastic waistband to hold them on.
Brihony let out a peal of astonished, disbelieving laughter. ‘What? Oh, that’s disgusting! Beck, you’ve been wearing those for over twenty-four hours . . .’
‘Yeah, and don’t I know it.’ His face creased into a smile. ‘But I lost my hat in the river, and that sun could literally fry my brains. I’d use my shirt, but then I’d die of sunburn. So I don’t have a lot of choice.’
‘I suppose they’re quite cute, in a weird sort of way.’ Brihony peered more closely. ‘Stripes are OK. At least you don’t have cartoon animals or anything . . .’
‘OK, OK,’ Beck said gruffly. He took one last look around the camp. The empty kapok seed pods still lay close by. He picked up a couple thoughtfully, and cupped them in his hand. Then he pushed one into his pocket and handed the other to Brihony. ‘You might need this.’
‘What for?’
‘Um . . .’ He really didn’t want to tell her. ‘I only said you might. If you do, I’ll let you know, right?’
She frowned, but took it. ‘OK . . .’
They were ready to go. As a final act Beck kicked sand and earth across the fire to extinguish it. A rogue spark in the bone-dry Outback could start a blaze that would sweep across miles of open land.
There wasn’t any more they could do here.
‘Right,’ Beck said. ‘Let’s get tracking.’
Chapter 16
Going out in the daytime, Beck thought. I must be mad . . .
Walking into the Outback was like walking into an oven. The air was so hot, he felt he was pushing his way through it. Normally he would never travel like this. In the desert you travelled when the sun was low; or preferably at night, when it wasn’t there. While it was high in the sky, slowly grilling everything beneath it, you took shelter and slept.
In this case, that was not an option. Unlike the desert, the terrain here was rugged. There was too much to trip over in the dark; and besides, the man they were after was moving during the day. So they had to as well.
Walking away from the river, they were heading across a plain of scrubland. Here and there in the distance, small hills and cliffs of red sandstone punched up out of the ground. The Kimberley wasn’t a desert like the Sahara, an endless ocean of sand. There was plenty of vegetation. From a distance the shrubs and bushes looked like they grew thick and close together. In fact, there was plenty of space between them, and very few of them came higher than Beck’s waist. The trees were few and far between, but even so it meant they could pause in the shade for a few minutes, and take a mouthful of water.
Beck kept his eyes on the distant bluff that was their destination, and was very glad they had taken a bearing on it first. As he suspected, it changed as their perspective moved. After ten minutes of walking, he could not have distinguished it from any other outcroppings of red rock without some help. Every time they stopped, Beck took another bearing off the sun to work out which way they ought to be heading. Then he would make another mark in the ground for the men to find, if they followed.
He knew it would be very easy to drift off course. They might walk round a tall rock or a cluster of bushes – just enough to make them lose their orientation by a small fraction. But as they continued in the new direction, that small fraction would grow larger and larger, and they could end up missing their destination by a mile. Staying on track was critical.
Beck kept his eyes peeled for any signs of human life. As far as they knew, the man hadn’t come any closer than the bluff. That would be their starting point. For now, all they had to do was get there.
The ground was firm beneath their feet. It was dry earth and rock, easy to walk on. It was still morning, so the sun was climbing as they walked and the Outback was getting hotter. They set a steady pace, not talking any more than they had to. The last thing Beck had said before leaving the camp was: ‘Breathe through your nose, not your mouth. There’s moisture in your breath and you lose it more quickly through your mouth.’
That had been half an hour ago. Now he suddenly held up his hand and stopped.
‘What is it?’ Brihony asked.
Her face was shaded by her bush hat, and Beck felt a stab of jealousy. His shorts were doing their job on his head – they helped protect him from the full force of the sun eating into his brains. But his face was still exposed and he knew he must be dripping with sweat. But he smiled. ‘I just saw elevenses . . .’
It was a low, wide shrub that was tangled up with at least one other bush. The leathery green leaves were long, slender and pointed, and grew in pairs along the branches. Fruit grew in the shape of hard, red, waxy spheres the size of billiard balls. Beck plucked one and handed it to Brihony.
‘Quandong?’ she guessed. ‘I’ve only had this out of tins.’
‘Well, this is better— Wait!’
Brihony had sunk her teeth into it. Her face contorted and she gave a muffled yelp of pain. ‘Ow!’
‘It’s a kind of peach,’ Beck finished. Brihony had just learned this the hard way. The fruit contained a massive stone – the flesh was only about half a centimetre deep. ‘You OK?’
‘Almost lost a tooth . . .’ she muttered, but she nibbled and sucked at the remaining flesh while Beck picked one for himself. The fruit was juicy, which gave them a little more liquid, and he knew it was high in Vitamin C. According to Pindari, it was essential food for any traveller.
They filled their po
ckets with as many quandongs as they could carry. Beck took another bearing and they set off again.
He felt his heart lifting as they walked. How could it not? People who didn’t know anything looked at the Outback and saw a harsh, hostile land. Far too hot in the dry season, far too wet in the wet season, and filled with too many creatures that could kill you.
But Beck and Brihony, and people like them, saw a land full of plants and wildlife that were perfectly adapted to their environment. A land of balance. There was give and there was take. It was complex and beautiful, and it deserved respect, not fear. Beck had been told that the first Aboriginal people came to Australia about 45,000 years ago. He always reckoned that if they hadn’t seen something worthwhile, they would have just turned round and gone away again. No one made them stay. They remained because they recognized the promise and the beauty of this mighty land.
They came to the edge of a gorge that cut through the sandstone at their feet. It was a dry river bed, six or seven metres deep. The bottom was lined with smooth stones and bushes that grew among them. No water had flowed down it for a long time, though Beck had seen what could happen when it rained in the Outback. A flash flood. Water would come cascading down, and the dry bed of stones would be a raging torrent within minutes. Too many people had been killed that way.
Instinctively he looked up at the sky, but there was no sign of rain clouds. He turned his head and squinted along the course of the bed. He knew that flash floods could strike many miles from where it had actually rained.
If he remembered the map correctly – the one he had studied on the boat – the river curved north ahead of where they’d had their accident. This dry river bed probably ran into it. There was no point in walking along it – that would just take them way off course; they would have to cross it.
The sides were steep but not vertical, and Beck could see plenty of nooks and crannies for foot- and handholds.
He made another mark at the point where the ground dropped away. ‘You up for some climbing?’ he asked.
‘No worries,’ Brihony told him.
