The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

“You children stay inside until the police sort it out,” Mrs Kirk said.

  Kylie’s hopes sank even more and she bit her lip in disappointment.

  Graham protested: “Oh mum! Fair go! We can’t all just sit here like prisoners. It’s not fair.” He gestured to the others. “They have all come up here to look for the gold mine. If we have to sit here then they may as well go back to Cairns.”

  Mrs Kirk looked grim. “That may not be such a bad idea,” she said. Kylie’s heart sank even further and she felt tears were close.

  But Graham did not give up. He said: “Oh mum, they aren’t kidnappers. They are after the gold.”

  “Oh gold! Fiddle-faddle! I’ve heard about that gold all my life and none of those men who went looking for it could ever find it. What chance do you children think you have?”

  That hurt. Kylie’s eyes watered and she said: “So if you don’t believe in it why were going to let us go looking for it?”

  Mrs Kirk took a deep breath. “Because I thought it would be a good way to keep you all busy during the holidays. I didn’t think it was dangerous then; at least no more dangerous than the jungle is anyway.”

  “Oh mum!” Kylie cried. A tear trickled out of each eye. “That isn’t fair. Anyway, I think we have a better chance than all those people who looked earlier because we have more information. None of them ever had both the old diary and the letter.”

  “That’s right mum,” Graham agreed. “And we will still be safe. If we stay in a group we will be alright.”

  At that stage Uncle Bill put down the phone and joined them. As he did Peter spoke up: “Mrs Kirk, I think the fact that these men are still watching us is good news as it means there probably is a gold mine. Please, we would like to go on with the expedition.”

  Kylie nodded and wiped her tears. “Yes mum, please! We really must find the gold so that Uncle Bill can save the farm.”

  “That’s nice of you,” Uncle Bill said, “but I will just keep my fair share.”

  Kylie shook her head. “No you won’t. We will all just have a little bit each and the rest is for you,” she insisted.

  “I think we should get equal shares,” Stephen put in.

  “No!” Kylie insisted. “The whole idea is to save the farm. You can have my share anyway Uncle Bill.”

  Uncle Bill held up his hands for silence as they all started to talk at once. “Hold on! Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched is an old farming saying. Let’s find the gold first.”

  “Mum isn’t going to let us go,” Kylie said.

  Uncle Bill looked at his sister. “I think they should sis. I have arranged things so I can take them and I am looking forward to it. It will be a holiday for me if nothing else.”

  “But what about these men? It could be very dangerous,” Mrs Kirk replied.

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “They are a problem but first we have to find the gold. I think we should still go and look.”

  Mrs Kirk looked very anxious but Gran now spoke up: “I think you should go, and the children should go with Bill. He hasn’t had a break from the farm for a couple of years now and he needs it.”

  That made Mrs Kirk waver. Kylie agreed. “That’s a good idea mum. We will all do extra work to help on the farm to make up for it. And I will stay here to help look after you and Gran. And you can have my share Uncle Bill.”

  “No, you can keep your share,” Uncle Bill. “Let’s find the gold first.”

  Gran spoke up again. “Kylie’s right. You should agree who gets what now; to save any disagreements and bad blood later, just in case you do find something.”

  “So, let’s sit down and discuss it,” Uncle Bill said. He led them to the dining room and they all seated themselves on chairs.

  When everyone was seated he said: “I think everyone should get an equal share.”

  “That includes mum and Gran, even if they don’t come,” Kylie insisted.

  The others nodded. Graham then said: “I think the ‘Save the Farm’ project should get a share.”

  The others all nodded at this. Kylie thought hard, determined to get as much as possible for the farm. “We are only talking about loose gold here aren’t we? But what about the actual claim that Grandad Hector pegged? That must go to him surely?”

  “But he’s dead!” Stephen objected.

  “So? So it goes to his descendants,” Kylie replied.

  “Oh, I suppose so,” Stephen replied, seeing that the others agreed with Kylie.

  Kylie turned to her mother. “So can we go and look please mum?”

  Mrs Kirk gave a rueful smile and nodded. “Yes, alright, but it does depend on what the police advise.”

  “Yippee!” Kylie cried. She smiled and wanted to hug everyone. Mrs Kirk smiled again and said: “Now come and help me get lunch for this hungry horde.”

  After lunch Uncle Bill phoned the police again. The police reported that they had spoken to Burg and he had produced a witness, a man named Josh Dolan who insisted that Burg had been with him all morning helping repair his truck. The green car was traced to one that had been stolen in Townsville earlier in the week but it could not be linked to either man. Donk also had an alibi, his employer saying he had been at work all morning.

  That left them puzzled.

  “Who else knows about this gold mine?” Peter asked.

  “Half the bloody Tablelands!” Uncle Bill replied with a chuckle.

  Kylie nodded. “Yes, the Reids certainly know about it.”

  “Maybe it is the Reids who are watching us?” Stephen suggested.

  Allison drew breath sharply. “Oh it is not!” she replied heatedly.

  Kylie supported her. “That is silly Stephen. They have as much information as us. Why would they possibly waste time watching us?”

  Stephen shrugged. Peter asked, “What exactly do these Reids know?”

  Kylie listed the copies of the diary, the old letter and the maps, plus notes from their own family expeditions. Peter listened then commented: “So they possibly know more than us. We had better get moving or they might find it before us.”

  The thought that the Reids might be rivals in the search came to Kylie as a shock although later she had to admit to herself there was no reason why it should. ‘After all their family has actually been out looking before.’

  Uncle Bill stood up. “Well, let’s get some work down and we can then get organized.”

  They all followed him out and were given various tasks to do which kept them busy till milking time. Allison was the exception. In mid-afternoon Bert drove over to see her. She dropped what she was doing and ran to meet him. Kylie thought they were going to embrace and kiss but they controlled themselves with Mrs Kirk present. As the others worked Bert sat and talked to Allison and she told him about the man and offered to show him where the man had parked his car.

  Stephen glanced at Allison and Bert as they strolled off along the farm road. “They just want to get away for a bit of a smooch!” he commented.

  Margaret looked annoyed. “You are just jealous,” she said. Stephen made a face but Kylie knew she was right. As she watched Allison and Bert walk off hand in hand and wondered if she felt jealous herself. She shook her head but then bit her lip and looked anxiously at Bert. ‘I wonder if the Reids are looking for the gold too?’ She decided that they probably were. ‘So that makes them rivals and Bert is one of them.’ Then another horrible thought came to her. ‘What if one of those men is back in the jungle watching?’

  By then Bert and Allison had vanished into the jungle. Kylie voiced her suspicion. Graham just grinned and said: “Now you are the one who is jealous. You just want to go and see if they really are having a pash.”

  “Oh I am not!” Kylie insisted, but she blushed and knew it.

  Half an hour Bert and Allison returned, Allison looking radiantly happy and walking with her arm very possessively around Bert’s waist. Bert greeted them all cheerfully and then said farewell. “Have to get back for milking,” he
explained.

  It was milking time on the farm as well. All helped here, Kylie gaining some amusement by watching Stephen getting his glasses splattered by cow poo while he was milking. That night they went over all the maps and notes again and arranged their plans for the next day.

  As they went to bed Margaret said to Allison: “It’s none of my business, but did Bert kiss you?”

  Allison smiled and hugged her pillow. “Oh yes! And I kissed him back. Oh, he’s such a hunk! I love him to bits.”

  “What did you talk about?” Margaret asked.

  “We didn’t talk all that much,” Allison replied. Then she giggled and blushed. Margaret was wide eyed with interest. So was Kylie but another thought came to her. She said: “Did you tell him all about the man watching us?”

  “Yes I did. He said he would come over and keep me safe if I wanted that,” Allison replied, her eyes dancing.

  “Please don’t tell him our plans,” Kylie said.

  “Oh why ever not? He won’t tell,” Allison said.

  Margaret giggled. “That’s what all the boys say!” she said.

  “Oh poo!” Allison replied. Then she giggled too. Kylie shook her head. She wanted to say more but sensed it could lead to a disagreement so instead she said goodnight and snuggled down. The other two talked for a while longer about boys and love. Kylie listened with half her mind. The other half was taken up by thoughts of saving the farm by finding the gold. ‘Anyway, I will still give Uncle Bill my share,’ she vowed.

  She tried to get to sleep, but found her mind too full of hopes and dreams. As well noises from downstairs kept disturbing them.

  “What are those silly boys up to?” Margaret asked.

  “Just being silly boys,” Kylie replied. “Why don’t you go down and shut them up?”

  “Oh I couldn’t. I’m only in my nightie!” Margaret answered in a slightly scandalized voice.

  “They wouldn’t mind,” Allison commented.

  Kylie laughed. “Go on. Graham has seen you in less than that.”

  Margaret cried out: “Oh Kylie! Don’t keep dredging that up. We were only little then.”

  “It was only last year,” Kylie reminded. “And you said Graham was very big.”

  The girls all giggled and that led to thumping on the floor. Graham’s voice sounded: “You girls go to bed, and stop making so much racket. We are trying to sleep down here.”

  The patent untruth and injustice of this led to an outburst of denials and giggling which was only subdued by Uncle Bill’s loud voice reminding them that they had to be up at 4 for milking.

  CHAPTER 14

  INTO THE JUNGLE

  Tuesday 29 December. As soon as the morning chores were done the group loaded gear into the cars and climbed in. Even with two vehicles it was a tight squeeze. Stephen and Peter went in the front of Uncle Bill’s ute and the others in Mrs Kirk’s car. Kylie made sure that Margaret ended up beside Graham. Gran sat in the front with her. Allison and Roger squashed in the back beside Graham. All were dressed for exploring the rainforest: long sleeved shirts, long trousers and strong footwear. Kylie wore an old green army shirt, jeans and gym boots.

  It was nearly ten before the expedition got under way. By then Kylie was almost beside herself with impatience and excitement. It had seemed as though they would never get to go and search for the gold mine. ‘At last! We are off!’ she thought as the cars started moving. She sat back and grinned at Margaret.

  As they drove along Kylie gazed out at the scenery and dreamed vivid dreams of finding the gold and saving the farm. Their route took them back to the road junction at Lamins Hill and then down the Churinga Flat road. This was a gravel road which led past a couple of farms and through patches of rain forest and then through rain forest for several kilometres before coming out in an open clearing with more farms. The base of Bartle Frere loomed up only a few kilometres ahead, the upper slopes and top of the mountain hidden by thick clouds.

  At a road junction they turned left onto a muddy side road and went along this for a bit before Uncle Bill stopped. Beside the road was the overgrown ruin of an old farm house. A mango tree grew next to a rusty water tank. They all climbed out. Uncle Bill pointed back and said: “If you want to climb Bartle Frere then you go right at that road junction back there. The road leads past the Churaana Bora Ground, and then to the base of the mountain.”

  “What is a Bora Ground?” Allison asked.

  “A clearing where the Aborigines conducted ceremonies and dances and so on,” Uncle Bill replied.

  Allison looked around. “Are there Aborigines around here?” she asked.

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “Haven’t seen any for years,” he replied.

  Margaret stared up at the cloud-shrouded mountain. “Is there a road up Bartle Frere?” she asked.

  Uncle Bill again shook his head. “No. Only a walking track. And I wouldn’t go today. It takes all day and you want a clear day in winter or all you see from the top is cloud.”

  Kylie pointed to the old farm house. “Why did we stop here Uncle Bill?”

  “This is the old Pike farm where Grandad Hector lived,” Uncle Bill replied.

  That sparked Kylie’s interest. She had somehow imagined the story had all happened at Gran’s farm, even though she knew it had not. The ruined farm house had been built of timber on low stumps. The roof was corrugated iron. The house was now almost completely rotted and collapsed but it appeared it had once had a small veranda and only a couple of rooms. A tumbledown shed and a rotting outdoor dunny with a distinct lean stood in the waist high weeds which took up what had once been the yard.

  “It isn’t very big,” Margaret said. “Weren’t there a whole tribe of them?”

  Gran laughed: “Yes there were; two adults and five children. You young people don’t know what it was like in the ‘good old days’,” she said, the last tinged with sarcasm. “People were crowded more then. All us kids shared one big bed in one room and the parents the other room. It only had three rooms that I remember.”

  “But it’s only a hut!” Allison exclaimed.

  “Yes it is. But that is how this country was settled,” Gran replied. “They were tough people in those days, mentally as well as physically.”

  Kylie shook her head as she tried to imagine what it must have been like. “Who owns it now?” she asked.

  “It belongs to that farm we passed back there,” Uncle Bill replied.

  “Do they own both farms?” Kylie asked.

  Uncle Bill nodded. “Yes they do. In fact they probably own three or four of the old farms, same as we do.”

  “Why is that Uncle Bill?” Graham asked.

  “Economics. You need a big enough area to run a couple of hundred head to make a dairy farm pay these days,” Uncle Bill replied. “So lots of the small holdings have been amalgamated to make viable economic units.”

  Kylie understood what he was saying but was puzzled. “So how did they make a living in the old days?”

  Again it was Gran who answered: “They lived a much simpler life than us. Their standard of living was much lower, and they didn’t have the same expectations. They didn’t have to pay for TVs and all those electronic gadgets you take for granted.”

  “It must have been awful,” Allison observed.

  Gran shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. In fact they were probably much happier than us because theirs was a simpler world with clearer values. The only thing that was awful was the medical side. Lots of people died who wouldn’t now, simply because the doctors didn’t know enough. It was the little kiddies dying that was the worst.” Gran’s voice trailed away in sadness as she looked back through the tunnel of years.

  “Can we have a look?” Kylie asked, as much to change the subject as anything. She did not want to think about little children dying.

  Uncle Bill answered: “I wouldn’t advise it. The place is sure to be a nest of snakes. They love old ruins. You kids be very careful and try not to walk on old sheets o
f corrugated iron. If you lift anything you look first and be ready to jump back fast.”

  That ended any desire to explore the ruin; although in truth they could see nearly as much from where they stood as they would if they went closer. It was obvious that no clues to help them find the gold mine would remain.

  They climbed back into the vehicles and set off. The road dramatically deteriorated to two wheel tracks and then, at the edge of the rainforest, to a muddy track which was covered by a carpet of leaves and sticks and which had small bushes growing up along it. Mrs Kirk muttered a few times as the car squished through muddy puddles but the going was quite easy so she continued to follow Uncle Bill’s ute.

  Graham followed their route on his map, moving his finger along the road marked on it. After about a kilometre and a half they came to an overgrown clearing with a road junction. Uncle Bill parked his ute and got out. Mrs Kirk pulled up nearby. Kylie was glad to get out.

  Uncle Bill pointed to the other road, which was also partly overgrown. “That is the road to Windin Creek. There is a nice waterfall down there.”

  “Is it far?” Margaret asked.

  “Two or three kilometres,” Uncle Bill replied. “And I’d say the track is all overgrown now. I haven’t been along it for a good few years.”

  After consulting the maps the group collected bags and gear containing food, water, first aid kits and odd items. The boys all wore their army webbing and Graham had a machete which he slashed at the overhanging growth with as they walked along. Uncle Bill led but all he used to cut a path were a pair of garden secateurs.

  “This is what you want,” he said to Graham. “Machetes make too much noise and they don’t cut the vines very well. They won’t cut wait-a-while at all. In fact they just make the bloody things jump about so that the other tendrils snag you.”

  Graham experimented with this when they came to the first wait-a-while plant which was blocking their path. He was quite familiar with wait-a-while so was careful. Even so, a mighty swipe with the machete failed to sever one of the thin tendrils. As Uncle Bill had said the whole bush then shook and all the dangling tendrils were flung about. One of these snagged Graham’s back.