The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  Graham snorted: “This isn’t that old family legend about the famous ‘Jeweller’s Shop’ is it?”

  “Yes it is. And we’ve found Grandad Hector’s diary and an old letter which tells us where it is,” Kylie replied.

  That got their interest. “Tell us more,” Peter asked.

  Kylie shook her head. “No. You have to go home. Your mother is waiting,” she teased.

  “Kylie!”

  “I will if you promise to come up to the farm for a week to help us find it,” Kylie replied.

  Peter looked at his mother and raised an eyebrow. “When?”

  “After Christmas,” Kylie replied.

  Mrs Bronsky sighed and nodded. She knew her son and his friends. Peter smiled. “I’d love to. We will be in touch. I take it the wonder instrument invented by Mr Alexander Graham Bell in the late nineteenth century, I refer to the telephone, has been connected to that part of the world?”

  Kylie’s face dimpled into a grin. “You know it has. So ring us up.”

  “I will,” Peter promised.

  “Then let’s get going,” Graham said. “I’m starving, and I will need a good feed before I head off into the trackless jungle to find the gold.”

  He gave Margaret a smile as he said this which Kylie knew would send her hopes soaring. ‘Oh I hope he falls in love with Margaret!’ she thought.

  They loaded the car and climbed in. Kylie made sure that Graham ended up in the back beside Margaret. Graham spoiled this by absent-mindedly dumping his kitbag on the seat between them but Margaret still looked happy- in an anxious sort of way.

  Margaret was dropped off at her home next. She was on the edge of tears by then and was trembling slightly. It was obvious to Kylie that she did not want to leave them.

  “See you next week,” Kylie said.

  Margaret nodded and bit her lip. “Yes,” she croaked. Then a tear did trickle out. To save the situation Mrs Kirk let in the clutch and drove off, calling a cheery goodbye as she did.

  “What’s wrong with Margaret?” Graham asked.

  ‘Oh you stupid boy!’ Kylie thought. “She’s had a really good time and is sad it is over,” she said. “And she likes you and was glad to see you.”

  “Oh. I see,” Graham replied, but he sounded slightly mystified.

  They drove to their own home, which was closed up for the holidays. The car was unloaded and the house opened up. Kylie was sent to the shop to buy milk and bread while Mrs Kirk bundled washing into the washing machine. Graham changed out of his uniform and went to check on his model ships.

  They ate a ‘Take-away’ meal for dinner as they were returning to the farm the next day and the fridge was almost empty. As they ate Graham happily chattered away about his promotion course. “It was great,” he said. “Very hard; thirteen periods a day. We were on the go from dawn to dusk, but we learned a lot.”

  “What did you do?” Kylie asked.

  “Learnt how to teach lessons; and we did lots of practice at that: teaching each other,” Graham explained.

  “What did you teach?”

  “Lots of drill and weapon training, and some fieldcraft,” Graham explained.

  “That sounds a bit boring,” Kylie replied.

  “Oh we did other things as well. We learned First Aid and how to use radios and lots of navigation. I found that a bit boring though. And we learned how to plan patrols and to give Verbal Orders.”

  “I thought all orders were verbal,” Kylie commented.

  “No. This is a specific process to pass on orders and information so that nothing is forgotten or missed out. There are written orders as well,” Graham explained.

  “When do you get promoted?” Mrs Kirk asked.

  “At the start of cadets next year,” Graham answered. “Cadet Under-Officer Grenfell wants me as a section commander in Two Platoon.”

  “Is that what you want?” Mrs Kirk asked.

  “Yes Mum.”

  “Good. Now eat up and get packed.”

  Graham turned to Kylie. “Tell me about the gold mine. If we are going to look for it I will need to take my hiking gear.”

  Kylie recounted the story. When she mentioned the thugs and their bashing and bullying of Gran Graham’s face darkened with anger. “Bastards! They will regret it if I catch them!”

  “Graham! Don’t use language like that at home please,” Mrs Kirk reproved. “And don’t you dare go looking for trouble. They are much bigger and older than you. The police have dealt with it.”

  “Yes Mum. Go on Kylie.”

  Kylie completed her account and it was obvious that Graham’s imagination had been gripped by the idea of finding the gold. “Can we go and look Mum?”

  Mrs Kirk made a face. “It is dangerous in the jungle. You could get lost.”

  “Oh Mum! Fair go. Pete and I have been in the jungle lots of times. We won’t get lost. And even if we do we will just walk back out of it.”

  “How? How will you know which way to go?” Mrs Kirk asked.

  “With a compass. Pete’s got a good one,” Graham replied.

  “What if you get separated?” Mrs Kirk persisted.

  “Then I just walk downhill and follow the creeks out of the jungle,” Graham replied. “The North Queensland jungle isn’t that big. If you walk down a creek you will come to some joker’s farm after a while.”

  Mrs Kirk knew this was true but she did not give up. “What about snakes, and wild pigs, and ticks?”

  “I’ve been bitten by a snake Mum. That doesn’t worry me. And the pigs aren’t that bad. When did you ever hear of anyone actually being killed by wild pigs?”

  Mrs Kirk had to admit she could not remember a single incident in twenty or thirty years so she said: “Don’t forget the diseases and poisonous plants. And you could get bitten by those mites and die of scrub typhus like Grandad Hector.”

  Graham nodded gravely at that. “Yes. We would need to be properly dressed and use plenty of ‘Anti Mite’. I will take all my hiking gear.”

  Mrs Kirk sighed and knew it was no use trying to stop the search going ahead. Graham reinforced this by saying: “Anyway Mum, you always reckon we are safer out in the bush than wandering around in town.”

  “I don’t know. There are a lot of creepy types lurking in the bush now: drug growers and bird smugglers and so on.”

  “We will be alright Mum. Can Pete and Steve come to stay on the farm for a while to help us?”

  Mrs Kirk nodded. “If they like,” she replied.

  “Oh good. I’ll give them a call to ask if they are allowed. And Roger.”

  “Roger is in Atherton at his Aunty’s,” Kylie put in. “I saw him there the other day.”

  “Thanks. I will ask them,” Graham said. He left the table and went to the phone to call his friends. Kylie helped her mother clean up, humming with happiness while she did. ‘Now we will find the gold mine,’ she told herself. She felt very confident. She also smiled about her Christmas present to Graham.

  CHAPTER 11

  CHRISTMAS

  The following morning the family went shopping for Christmas presents. Kylie had purchased all hers but Graham had not. She insisted that Margaret come along as well. Mrs Kirk happily colluded in this plan and they picked Margaret up on the way. Kylie knew that Margaret had bought Graham a present but wasn’t sure if he was going to buy her one. Just to be sure, knowing how disappointed she would be if he did not, she got him aside and asked him.

  Graham shrugged and said: “I’ve thought about it.”

  “She will be very hurt if you don’t,” Kylie replied.

  “Maybe, but if I am too nice to her she will never give up. She thinks she owns me now,” Graham replied.

  “Oh Graham she does not!” Kylie said. “She just likes you a lot; but I can’t imagine why. You can be really dumb and horrible at times.”

  Graham was obviously stung but equally he obviously felt he should do something. After a moment he replied: “I wouldn’t know what to buy her. It
’s hard to buy presents for girls.”

  “Oh it is not!” Kylie cried. “Listen, we will walk along and talk about things we would like and you can take note, then later on double back and buy something she says she likes.”

  Graham sniffed and shrugged and made no reply, but that was the strategy they followed. In that way Graham bought Margaret a crochet set with needles and coloured threads, and a bright yellow cotton top that she had admired. He drew the line at buying her a necklace she liked. It wasn’t the cost. ‘If I start buying her jewellery she will think we are engaged or something!’ he told himself.

  After lunch they returned Margaret to her home, happily clutching her new presents but sad that she wasn’t going to be with them for Christmas.

  As she stood on the footpath outside her home Margaret looked at Graham and gave a wistful smile. Then she met Kylie’s eyes. “See you next week. Merry Christmas!” she said.

  Mrs Kirk then drove Kylie and Graham back up to the farm. Once again she went via the Gillies Highway, although Kylie didn’t want her to go that way. Graham didn’t mind. As they wound up the mountainside he kept exclaiming about the view. A third of the way up the highway went past a clearing on the right. A sign informed them that it was the start of: ROBSONS TRACK

  “It’s an old pioneer track,” Graham said. “Silver Wolf told us about it. I must walk it one day.”

  The track obviously went from the bottom of the valley right to the top of the range. Kylie knew that Graham often climbed such mountains on his hikes with Peter so wasn’t surprised.

  Graham pointed to the left along the valley. “That is Mt Bartle Frere at the end of the valley; the big one on the right of that saddle,” he explained. He did so much bushwalking and travelling that he knew the names of all the mountains. There were times Kylie found him a bit boastful.

  “I know,” she replied. “The farm is just up on top of the Tablelands to the right of that.”

  The place she was talking about was still twenty kilometres away and invisible because of intervening mountains but Graham nodded.

  By road it was more like forty kilometres as they had to go up onto the Atherton Tablelands, then west to Lake Eacham, then south past North Johnston. After that it was a fairly straight run south through beautiful rolling country. Mostly this was dairy farms but there were still patches of the original rainforest and various clumps of pines and other trees which had been planted.

  Arrival at the farm included the usual happy greetings. Graham loved his Gran and she always treated him as her little favourite. Uncle Bill shook his hand and said: “How was your army camp?”

  “Good Uncle Bill. I’m going to be promoted to corporal.”

  Uncle Bill grinned. “That’s good. You won’t have to scrub the dunnies anymore then. You can tell some other bugger to do it,” he replied.

  “Were you ever in the army Uncle Bill?” Graham asked.

  Uncle Bill nodded. “Oh, only part-time in the CMF; the Citizens Military Forces. What they call the Army Reserve now. I spent six years in the good old 51st Battalion. Got to be a sergeant. That was a good twenty years ago though.”

  Graham was impressed and showed it. Over afternoon tea he plied Uncle Bill with questions. Uncle Bill happily talked about his army experiences. Mrs Kirk encouraged this and later Kylie overheard her say to Gran: “I’m so glad Graham has joined the army cadets. He was turning into a real juvenile delinquent before. I was at my wits end. He was always in trouble at school and was even getting into trouble with the police. Since he has been in the cadets he has become a different person. He is still mischievous and pretty wild but now he has a focus and he is trying very hard to get promoted. He is even doing some of his school work.”

  Kylie knew all of that. She had watched Graham going off the rails with some concern. She had even caught him with a girl from his class under the house one afternoon. They hadn’t actually been doing anything but they had looked so guilty she just knew what they had been up to.

  ‘And poor Margaret was so hurt,’ she remembered. Then she smiled. ‘They were probably doing just what Margaret wants to do with Graham!’

  Milking followed. Graham cheerfully joined in. It was a task they had always done when they visited the farm. Uncle Bill was always glad of the help and that made the children happier. By the time they finished it was dark. They made their way back up to the farm house to hot showers and a large tea.

  After tea, over the washing up, which Graham always did, he said to Kylie, who had the tea towel: “So tell me about this gold mine.”

  While they worked Kylie went over the story again. Afterwards she took out the maps, diary and photocopy of the letter and sat with Graham while he carefully read it all. It was transparently obvious that he was seized by the idea of finding the gold.

  Kylie said: “I want to find the gold so that Uncle Bill can save the farm.”

  “Save the farm! Why? What is wrong?” Graham asked.

  “Uncle Bill owes the bank a lot of money and he says that if he can’t pay them then the bank will take the farm off him,” Kylie explained.

  “Lose the farm!” Graham was aghast. “Oh we can’t let that happen. We must find the gold.”

  Fired now by a fierce resolve he bent back to studying the maps and documents. Kylie also re-read all of it. She took a few more notes and they studied the maps carefully. Mrs Kirk had to order them to bed.

  “You will be too tired to enjoy tomorrow otherwise.”

  So off to bed they went; Kylie now in the spare bedroom upstairs and Graham on the mattress in the basement.

  They were up at 4am next morning to round up the cows. Graham was slow to start as he was still tired from the exertions of his cadet camp but despite that he did his fair share. When told that Allison had even done the milking he was astounded.

  “That’s hard to imagine,” he said. “I can only picture her complaining she would break a finger nail or mess her hair up.”

  “Oh Graham, she’s not as bad as that,” Kylie replied. “In fact, since she fell in love with Bert she has really changed.”

  Graham was sceptical about that but not really interested. He was more interested in finding the gold mine. After breakfast he re-read the old diary. Then he went off on his own to explore the farm. This was so typical of him that nobody even commented. Kylie worked in the kitchen with Gran, learning to make pumpkin scones. From time to time she would see Graham in the distance as he walked slowly along, his eyes noting everything.

  At morning tea time Graham returned. “There’s a sick calf down the far end of that paddock over there,” he said, pointing out the window.

  “Oh no!” Kylie cried. She knew it would be the one she had seen born a few days before.

  It was. They walked down with Uncle Bill after morning tea and found the calf lying in the grass beside a patch of wild raspberries. The mother stood helplessly nearby. The calf had a large, weeping wound in its hind leg and could not stand.

  “Cut himself on something,” Uncle Bill said after examining the wound. “Barbed wire or an old bit of iron maybe.”

  “He looks very sick,” Kylie said. “Can you fix him.”

  Uncle Bill stood up and sadly shook his head. “Her. She needs a vet and the right medicine. That might save her.”

  For a minute Kylie did not understand. Then she asked: “Are you going to call the vet Uncle Bill?”

  Uncle Bill shook his head again and avoided meeting her eyes. “I’d like to lass but I can’t afford it.”

  “Uncle Bill! Do you mean you are just going to let her die?” Kylie asked. She was appalled, both at the thought of the calf dying and of the fact that Uncle Bill was too poor even to pay the vet.

  “Sorry, yes. We will have to let nature take its course,” Uncle Bill replied. His mouth set in a hard line and Kylie was even more shocked by the bitter tone in his voice.

  “Oh Uncle Bill! We can’t. I will pay for it,” Kylie cried.

  “You don’t know ho
w much it will cost lass. It is expensive. I’m sorry. I wish I could do it but I can’t. Be kindest if I shot the poor little bugger and put her out of her misery.”

  Kylie was even more upset at that idea. She knelt and stroked the sick calf and began to cry. The calf looked up at her with big soft eyes and tried to lick her hand. The calf was shaking and her tongue was dry and puffed up so that it looked unnaturally large.

  Graham now said: “But Uncle Bill, surely it is good economics to spend money to keep the herd healthy.”

  Uncle Bill rounded on him and shouted: “Yes it is! Don’t tell me my job boy! I would save the calf if I had the money. And it’s a her not a him, so worth saving!”

  Graham bit his lip and went very silent. Kylie was even more upset. She had never seen Uncle Bill angry. Never in her whole life had he shouted at either of them. She looked away and burst into tears.

  Uncle Bill was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry kids. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. It’s just that things have been getting on top of me lately.”

  Kylie looked up, full of pity for the big, bluff man. “It’s alright Uncle Bill. We will find Grandad Hector’s gold and then you will be Ok again.”

  Graham nodded. “Yes we will. And please, can we help pay for the vet. I’d like to help. I’ve got some money saved up and it would make a nice Christmas present to you.”

  For a moment Kylie thought Uncle Bill would refuse, but then he met her eyes and nodded. His own eyes then watered and he bit his lip and walked quickly away. Kylie gently stroked the calf’s head and then looked up at Graham. “Thanks for that. You can be wonderful when you try.”

  It was Graham’s turn to be embarrassed. “Let’s make sure we find that gold. Come on, let’s go and organize the vet.”

  Later, after the vet had been, the children had a word to their mother. She said she already knew of their offer and was delighted. “That was very good of you kids. I will help you pay, so cheer up. Now come and help me weed the vegetable garden.”

  “Aw Mum! It’s Christmas,” Graham replied.

  “I know that, but the weeds don’t. Come on. We can have it done before afternoon milking.”