The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  “Serves you right,” Kylie said as Peter helped untangle him. Graham muttered and stubbornly would not admit he was wrong but after a while Kylie noticed that he quietly slid the machete back into its sheath and took out the new secateurs that Margaret had given him for Christmas.

  The road wound along the top of a wide, gentle ridge. Thick rainforest hemmed them in and the trees met overhead to give a tunnel effect. Because the road was no longer used or maintained it was blocked in places by fallen trees and by clumps of wait-a-while. Weeds and small trees grew up in the more open areas and the surface was a thick matt of deadfall.

  The recent rain made the ground damp and there were muddy patches to be negotiated. Kylie soon found her feet were damp and she grimaced with dislike. As she walked she looked around, admiring the incredible profusion of plant growth. The whole place was on massive riot of growing things and decaying vegetation.

  Allison suddenly cried out. “Oh! Look at that butterfly!”

  It was large, its wings a brilliant blue and edged with black. Kylie watched with fascination as it flitted off through the trees. On both sides of the track the trees grew so closely together that it was just possible to walk between them- or would have been if vines, ferns and bushes had not taken up much of that space. Kylie decided that she could only see about fifty metres at most, and at times, much less than that. Ferns, palms and other bushes blocked the view. Only a few of the trees were large. Many of these were festooned with lianas or strangler vines. Kylie knew a fair bit about the rainforest from school field trips and from earlier expeditions so she studied it all with informed interest.

  Graham was obviously thinking about their earlier expeditions too as he called back: “Hey Steve, don’t get lost in this bit of rainforest.”

  The previous January, during a holiday trip to the Innisfail area, Stephen had spent a night alone in the rainforest after running into it to escape from some crooks. He snapped back: “I wasn’t lost. I just had trouble seeing where I was going because of the rain.”

  Kylie glanced back at Stephen. She knew the story well. Stephen’s problem had been heavy rain and humidity fogging up his glasses. She saw he was already starting to have problems that way now as they worked up a sweat. He did not look happy and was muttering as he walked along.

  After about half an hour they stopped at what had once been a clearing. It was now overgrown with young trees, all of the same type and all the same height. Over to one side were some rusty old drums and steel objects. On another side was a litter of bottles and rusty cans.

  Margaret pointed to where three large logs had been piled up one on top of the other against two trees. Earth had been pushed against one side of the logs. “What was that for?” she asked.

  “A ramp for loading bulldozers,” Uncle Bill replied.

  “Bulldozers? Did they use bulldozers to mine the gold?” Margaret asked.

  “Sometimes, but these would have been for timber getters to use,” Uncle Bill replied.

  Margaret still looked puzzled so Uncle Bill explained. “They used a bull dozer to push a track in to, or close to, a tree they wanted to get. They would then cut the tree down and the dozer would haul it out to a clearing where it could be lifted onto a timber jinker; that is a special trailer made to carry logs. The trucks then took them to a saw mill.”

  Graham added: “That is why there are so many side tracks running off in areas of rainforest that have been logged.”

  “I thought they just cut everything down,” Allison said.

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “No, not up here in the rainforest. They do that in the eucalypt forests down south. Clear felling it is called.”

  “Environmental vandalism I call it,” Peter put in. “It absolutely devastates the wildlife; and all to make tissue paper we don’t need.”

  Stephen snorted. “You can wipe your bum with your finger if you want,” he commented with a grin.

  “And you can bite yours!” Peter retorted. “You know what I mean. We waste a lot of paper and don’t need to.”

  Kylie became impatient. “Come on. We came to find the gold mine, not discuss the timber industry.”

  Uncle Bill led them on along an old overgrown track to the east. This time they had to go much slower and the secateurs came into use much more often. It became quite gloomy as clouds came over and there were a few spits of rain but as they were all soaked by perspiration they ignored this.

  After twenty minutes walking Uncle Bill pointed to a few sheets of rusty corrugated iron, the edges of which were protruding from the matt of leaves. “This is the ‘Pride of Erin’ mine.”

  Kylie looked around in dismay. All she could see were a few old rusty steel objects and some thick coils of rusty steel wire rope. She had imagined it would be like the old mines they had visited out in the open country: wooden poppet legs over the tops of the shafts except all overgrown with creepers. The only real sign that this had been a mine were a few low mounds of earth and a couple of depressions full of rotting deadfall which might have once been the entrance to mine shafts.

  Graham made a face. “Not much left is there?” he commented.

  “It’s been over sixty years since the mine closed,” Uncle Bill replied. “Nothing lasts long in this climate. The wood rots and the steel rusts.”

  “The bottles don’t,” Stephen replied. He had found a few old bottles buried in the leafmould and began digging them up to see if they were valuable.

  Kylie took out her notebook. “If this is the ‘Erin’ mine then this is where we start following the detailed instructions in the letter.”

  The others crowded around as she read them out. After reading through the list she said: “Right, Number One says: ‘From the Erin Mine go south’.”

  She turned and looked around. “Which way is that?” she asked. The sun was still hidden by the heavy overcast and she had no idea which way was which.

  Graham took out his compass, which he had tied to the pocket of his new green shirt. “That way.”

  They all studied the jungle in the direction indicated. Peter scratched his head and said: “There would have been a track, but I can’t see any sign of one.”

  They all moved across to search. Kylie thought she could detect a few changes in the vegetation which might indicate a track had once been there but there was certainly no clear path. She felt a sudden sinking of her hopes. She bit her lip.

  Allison expressed her thoughts when she said: “This might be a little bit harder than we thought.”

  Mrs Kirk agreed: “I did warn you it would be. If it was that easy all those earlier expeditions would have found the gold.”

  As her eyes scanned the wall of jungle Kylie felt them water. She felt quite sharply cast down and began to feel she had been a fool to make her bold assertions about finding the gold. ‘First catch your chicken,’ Uncle Bill had said. The words seemed to mock her and it was all she could do not to burst into tears.

  Graham and Peter both scouted the edge of the overgrown clearing and after several minutes Graham called out. “I think this is a track. Even if it isn’t we can still get through easily enough. How far do we have to go Kylie?”

  Kylie looked at her notebook through misty eyes and read: “Cross the main stream; then it says: turn right at the ‘Bright Smile’. That must be another mine but it isn’t on any of the maps we have.”

  Graham nodded and studied his map. Peter pointed to the map. “This must be the main stream, Christmas Creek.”

  “Christmas Creek. Yes, the old diary said that Grandad Hector came back along the Christmas Creek Track on his last trip,” Kylie replied, feeling a glimmer of hope.

  “How far is it?” Mrs Kirk asked.

  Graham studied the map. “About two hundred metres. We can just push through that if we can’t find a track. Come on, there must be some remains to show us where this other mine was.”

  With that he turned and set off into the jungle, secateurs in one hand and compass in the other. H
er spirits lifting and her determination growing by the second Kylie followed.

  CHAPTER 15

  OLD MINES

  As Graham had suggested, there were signs indicating the area had been mined- lots of signs- all over the place. Within twenty paces they found mounds of earth and items which indicated that a mine shaft had been dug there. The place was now overgrown with trees and covered by rotting leafmould but the mounds and leaf filled depressions were still obviously the result of man-made disturbance.

  At first Kylie thought that this mine was just part of the ‘Pride of Erin’ mine but when they found a third mine after another fifty paces, then two more off to the side she began to worry. It soon became obvious that there had been many mines in the area.

  “Well, it was a gold rush,” Peter observed. “Anyway these don’t count. We have to cross Christmas Creek first. The ‘Bright Smile’ will be on the other bank.”

  If it was they were unable to tell which one. Christmas Creek was a typical jungle stream: crystal clear water tumbling over moss covered rocks. It was only a few paces across and easily crossed. Margaret thought it was very pretty and Kylie agreed with her but was now so anxious to find the old gold mine that she had no time for the beauties of nature. They crossed by stepping from rock to rock and climbed up into the jungle on the other bank, to find the overgrown remains of another mine almost at once.

  Peter indicated the mounds and dips. “The ‘Bright Smile’?” he suggested.

  Graham could only shrug and Uncle Bill did not know. Gran, who had been following slowly with Mrs Kirk shook her head.

  “I can’t remember. There was a creek near the ‘Erin’ mine but it is too long ago.”

  Gran looked very hot and sweaty. Mrs Kirk also looked less than happy. “Gran and I will sit here on the creek bank and wait for you,” she said. “But if it starts to rain we will walk back to the car and I will drive it out to the old farm. I wouldn’t like to get bogged in the jungle.”

  “Good idea,” Uncle Bill said. “In fact you could walk slowly back out now. We will be out in two hours. I don’t want to be away from the farm too much.”

  “Don’t you and Gran get lost mum,” Kylie said anxiously.

  Mrs Kirk smiled. “We will be alright. You children are the ones who have to be careful. Now go on with your search and we will see you at three O’clock.”

  “OK mum,” Graham said. He turned to Kylie. “Kylie, what do we do next?”

  Kylie read the instructions: “Turn right and then we cross Nugget Creek.”

  “Which creek is Nugget Creek?” Peter asked. He took the map from Graham and looked at it.

  “The next one we come to I suppose,” Graham replied. He started off through the jungle beside the creek. Margaret made a face but followed him. Allison obviously wasn’t enjoying herself either but kept going. Stephen came last, cursing as his glasses kept getting drips or condensation on them.

  The creek went quite steeply uphill. Most of each bank was covered by thick rainforest through which they had to worm their way. Graham, Peter and Uncle Bill used their secateurs to snip vines and wait-a-while tendrils but everyone still snagged their clothing or gear continually on tree trunks or thicker vines. Kylie kept losing her hat as the vegetation brushed it off. She found she was panting as though she had run a race and that feelings of irritation and claustrophobia were building up.

  Graham treated it all as a game. He pushed and blundered through the rainforest, laughing and joking. From time to time he would be held up by a clump of ferns or a vine and would try to break through by brute force.

  “Ow! Bloody stuff! Ah! Made it!” he cried. Then he then tripped and stumbled on a few paces.

  “Watch out for that wait-a-while!” Peter called.

  “Aargh! Got me! Ouch! Bloody stuff!” Graham cried. He backed up and twisted. There was a ripping sound. “Ah! That’s better. Bloody wait-a-while!.”

  “Slow down and use your secateurs,” Peter said. “You don’t have to barge through like Bessie the bloody Elephant!”

  Kylie shook her head and smiled. In spite of cuts and scratches Graham was obviously enjoying himself immensely. Personally she found it unpleasant. So, obviously, did Margaret and Allison. Margaret quietly kept going and said nothing but Allison began to grumble. This changed to shrieks when she discovered a leech on her arm.

  “Oh! Oh! A leech! Oh! Oh get it off! Get it off!” she cried.

  “Calm down!” Kylie said. “It’s only a leech.”

  Allison jumped up and down while scraping at the leech. “Oh get it off! Oh I hate them! Get it off!” she screamed.

  Graham looked unimpressed. “Just pull it off. It hasn’t latched on yet with its mouth.”

  Allison shook her head vigorously. “Oh I can’t!”

  Stephen moved over and took the leech off her sleeve. “Watch. Just roll it into a ball between your finger and thumb and flick it away.” He demonstrated this. Allison shuddered and then began to search herself for more leeches; to rapidly discover two more. That caused another outburst. Once these had been removed they all checked themselves. Kylie found one on her trousers and one on her boot. Margaret had one on her neck which she pulled off without any fuss, even though the resulting wound bled quite freely for a time.

  Repellent was passed around and they wiped it on their exposed skin and around their collars and cuffs as well as around the bottoms of their trousers. That done they resumed the exploration.

  After ten more minutes they reached a creek junction. Graham muttered as he studied his compass. “This creek goes almost west and the main creek goes North West. If we keep going this way we will come back to the road we came in on.”

  “What do we do next?” Peter asked Kylie.

  Kylie read the instructions: “Cross Nugget Creek. Turn left at Frank’s Claim. Then it says go downhill to the mossy rocks.”

  “If this is Nugget Creek,” Stephen commented as they made their way down to the water. The creek was un-named on any of the maps and was only a few paces wide. They stopped to wash their faces and to have a drink before climbing up through a thick belt of palm ferns into the jungle on the other side.

  Graham turned left and began making his way along the creek bank. Kylie called out and stopped him: “We turn left at Frank’s Claim, not at the creek.”

  “Are you sure?” Graham questioned. This led to another reading of the instructions which made Stephen gesture at the surrounding jungle disgustedly.

  “So where is Frank’s Claim?”

  It wasn’t marked on any of the maps either. Kylie shrugged, feeling unhappy and baffled. “Perhaps it’s the next old mine we come to?”

  For lack of any better idea they adopted this one and pushed on through the jungle with Christmas Creek close on their right. They began to climb fairly steeply. Fifteen minutes of pushing through the jungle brought them to some low mounds which might have once been old diggings.

  “This might be Frank’s Claim,” Peter said. “Look around for more clues.”

  “Who was Frank?” Margaret asked as they searched the area slowly.

  Kylie shrugged. “No idea. A friend of Grandad Hectors I suppose. I read that he got sick once and Grandad helped him.”

  Peter called out to them from further up the slope. “Come and look at this. It is definitely man-made.”

  They made their way up to look. Kylie saw that Peter was standing on a low mound with a shallow ditch on the uphill side of it. It appeared to have been dug right around the hillside as far as they could see in both directions.

  “What is it?” Margaret asked.

  Uncle Bill answered. “A contour drain, to carry water to the mines.”

  “What do you mean Uncle Bill?” Graham said. “There’s plenty of water down there in the creek.”

  “I know. But if a mine was up on the side of a ridge the old diggers used to cut a drain from a point higher up the creek to take water right to the mine.” He pointed off upstream. “Sometimes the
y dug these channels for kilometres. They even built wooden flumes to carry the water across gullies and valleys.”

  Allison shook her head. “I don’t understand. What’s a flume?”

  “A timber gutter up on posts like a bridge,” Uncle Bill answered.

  “You mean like an ancient Roman aqueduct?” Graham asked.

  “That’s right,” Uncle Bill confirmed.

  Margaret frowned. “But why take it across another creek? Why not get the water from the closest creek?”

  “They would have had to pump. That meant an engine, therefore fuel and so on,” Uncle Bill explained. “So instead they just dug contour drains with a gentle fall to them so the water flowed easily along. When they came to a creek or dip they built the flume at the same gradient as the ditch.”

  “Sounds like an awful lot of work,” Stephen commented. “Why didn’t they lay a pipeline?”

  “They did sometimes,” Uncle Bill replied. “But pipes cost money. So they went for hard work instead.”

  Stephen obviously did not like that idea. Kylie shook her head in wonder. Once again she was struck with admiration for the early pioneers who toiled so mightily under such conditions.

  Graham said: “So, if this is Frank’s Claim we turn left and go downhill to some mossy rocks.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Peter said. “Left is uphill.”

  That had them stumped. Kylie felt her hopes slump further. Once again they crowded around to read the instructions. That left Kylie feeling even more puzzled.

  “Well, the creek is just down there,” Graham said. “So let’s go and look anyway.”

  They made their way down to the creek and stopped.

  “Plenty of mossy rocks,” Stephen observed.

  “Every creek is lined with them,” Graham said. “Grandad Hector would have referred to a really obvious clump of rocks. Let’s look around.”

  For lack of a better plan they did this. For the next half hour they ranged up and down the hillside and both creek banks searching for the rocks. Allison and Stephen soon gave up and sat on some smooth boulders in the bed of the creek. One by one the others drifted in to join them.