The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  She also noted that Margaret was trotting along beside Graham. It was so obvious to Kylie that she desperately wanted him to hold her hand that his obtuseness made her angry.

  It was a cheerful and laughing group that turned the corner, to be greeted by a totally deserted main street. Nothing moved. There was not a person in sight. Not even a moving vehicle.

  Stephen made a derisive snort. “Oh well, this has got to be where all the action is!” he said sarcastically.

  “Not even a dog,” Peter added with a laugh.

  The only place where there was any sound was from the hotel at the corner. The group walked slowly along, the boys making smart remarks about the wild parties that were held in Malanda. They went slowly past the hotel and saw that it was full of people, all drinking and talking. A band was thumping away in a back room. Kylie peered in at the smoky and noisy interior of the bar and felt nothing but distaste.

  At that moment Graham stopped and pointed to a vehicle parked among a row of cars and trucks outside the hotel.

  “That ute. It’s the one we saw in the jungle.”

  That got their attention. Peter bent to peer at the number plate.

  “Are you sure?” Kylie asked, aware that her heart had begun to pound rapidly.

  “Positive. Same colour, same registration number,” Graham replied. Peter confirmed this. Kylie and Margaret both looked fearfully around.

  “That means that the man who was watching us is here!” Kylie said.

  “That’s right,” Peter agreed. “But I don’t think he is watching us now. I reckon he’s in town for the New Year celebrations.”

  “What is it?” Allison called. She and Bert had been dawdling behind, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

  Kylie was about to explain when there was a burst of voices and noise from the door of the hotel. She looked around in alarm but it was only a group coming out. Then she caught her breath. One of the men was Cousin Victor. He and another man, a thin, weedy fellow in dirty lumberjack shirt and jeans, came walking across the footpath.

  Victor saw them and stopped in surprise. He said: “G’day kids. G’day little brother. Having a good time?”

  “You bet!” Bert said. The others made mumbled replies. Kylie was too stunned to speak.

  Victor and the man walked to the ute. Kylie looked hard at the man in the light of the street lights and thought he looked guilty, or at least anxious to be gone. He quickly unlocked the door of the ute and climbed in. Victor stood leaning on the door talking to him as the group moved on.

  For about twenty paces there was a sort of stunned silence before Graham turned to Bert. “Bert, who’s that bloke with Victor?”

  Bert glanced back. “Oh him, that’s Josh Doolan.”

  “How does Victor know him?” Graham continued.

  Bert looked puzzled, aware that something had happened but not sure what. “They went to school together. Josh repairs our tractors, why?”

  Graham shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just wondered. Seen him about.”

  “Yeah, he lives here,” Bert agreed.

  Kylie met Graham’s eye and he shook his head in warning. She then looked anxiously at Allison, who was looking very thoughtful. ‘What to do?’ she wondered. ‘Should we say anything? How can we make sure Allison doesn’t say anything?’

  To Kylie it was an awful dilemma. It seemed very obvious to her that the whole mood of the group had dramatically changed and she wondered if Bert had picked this up. It appeared he had not as he was again staring into Allison’s eyes with loving adoration.

  After another fifty paces the group stopped at a seat outside a cafe. While the others talked and joked Kylie wondered how to tactfully warn Allison not to say any more to Bert. Inside she was feeling guilty for having such horrible thoughts and doubts.

  After a few minutes Bert was drawn into some nonsense by the boys. Kylie at once took the opportunity to speak privately to Allison. “Allie, have you told Bert what we have been doing for the last three days?”

  Allison looked worried and hurt. “Of course I have. He knew anyway. It wasn’t a secret.”

  “Please don’t tell him any more.”

  Margaret joined them. Allison was silent for a moment, then became angry. “Why not? We haven’t found anything, and we won’t!”

  “Don’t say anything about my new maps please,” Kylie persisted.

  “Why not? Don’t you trust Bert?” Allison challenged.

  Margaret answered. “He might tell Victor,” she put in.

  “So? He’s his brother. Why shouldn’t he?” Allison retorted angrily.

  “Because... because he is talking to that man, that man in the ute back there,” Kylie said. “He might say something to him.”

  “He won’t!” Allison snapped. Kylie saw that she was becoming distressed. She wondered what she could say to ease the situation but Bert came walking back and she had no chance. Allison went to Bert and put her arms around him.

  Bert looked at her with delight on his face. “Gee! That’s nice,’ he said. “You should do that more often.” Then he became aware she was upset. “What’s wrong Allie?”

  “Nothing,” Allison sniffled into his shoulder. Bert looked at the others but they could not say so he bent to comfort her.

  Kylie was upset as well and wished the incident had not happened. She led Margaret to one side.

  “What will we do?” Margaret asked.

  Kylie shook her head. “There isn’t much we can do. We will have to trust her. I don’t want to spoil a friendship.”

  They left it at that. The boys knew something had happened but soon lost interest and forgot about it as they joked and sang. The group made its way back along the street on the other side of the road, ostensibly because they had already been along one side, but really to avoid the hotel. As they went back past it Kylie looked anxiously across at the line of parked vehicles. From a distance she could see two men leaning on the back of a vehicle talking but as they got closer she saw that they were two middle-aged farmers leaning on the tray of a truck. The ute was gone and there was no sign of Victor.

  Soon afterwards the adults arrived and other people began to appear. Several vehicles drove past. The noise from the hotel increased and people began to spill out of the bar onto the footpath. Singing and dancing began and loud music blared out. The teenagers joined in the shouted count-down to midnight. Screams of “Happy new year!” could be heard all over the town and people blew whistles, banged on pots and pans and tooted car horns.

  Kylie tried to enter into the spirit of it all but had to fend off a hug and a kiss by Barry and by some other youth she had not even seen before. ‘Another year!’ she thought. ‘And it is going to be a big one. I am starting High School.’

  That was a sobering thought but when she noted Margaret still standing hopefully beside Graham another thought came to her. ‘Maybe he will start to take notice of Margaret if she is at High School too?’ Several times Graham had expressed fear of being accused of being a ‘cradle snatcher’ if he had a girl friend who was ‘only a primary school kid’ while he was in High School. Kylie thought this stupid as Margaret was only two years younger than Graham and she knew that it was considered perfectly normal for Year 12 boys to have Year 10 girlfriends.

  This brooding was brought to an end by the adults wanting to go home. Kylie was ready to go and so was Margaret. Graham had given up on the local girls and the boys were just being silly. The only one who clearly wanted to stay was Allison. She appeared to have cheered up. She hugged Bert and they walked hand in hand at the rear all the way back to the house.

  As they climbed into the cars Allison hugged Bert and they had a passionate kiss. Uncle Bill called out in the end. “Righto kids, break it up. It isn’t Christmas ya know. You can see him again tomorrow Allie.”

  Stephen joined in, his voice tinged with jealous malice. “Yeah, let him come up for air!”

  Allison poked her tongue at Stephen, gave Bert another kiss, then
reluctantly climbed in beside Kylie.

  Bert leaned on the car and looked in the window. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked Allison.

  “If you want to,” Allison said. She turned to Kylie. “We.. we aren’t going.. going anywhere tomorrow are we?”

  “No,” Kylie confirmed.

  “Good,” Bert said. He held Allison’s hand till the car moved off.

  It was a relatively silent group who returned to the farm. Most were now very tired and Kylie was trying to decide how to let Allison know she was still her friend. In the end she decided the best policy was to act as though nothing had happened. To that end she began a light-hearted chatter about the people at the party, emphasizing Barry and his drunken mates to get the others laughing.

  The plan seemed to work so that the girls went to bed without any more upsets. Kylie lay back and relaxed. Sleep claimed her within minutes.

  CHAPTER 18

  NEW PLANS

  It had been decided, because of New Year, that there would be no exploration the next day. Kylie was glad of that. It gave her a chance to study the clues and to rethink their plans. She had been roused to help with the milking at 4am as usual and had gone to do this almost mechanically. The others helped and the job was done by 6:30.

  As they walked back up to the farmhouse Graham pointed back at Bartle Frere. “Not a cloud in the sky. We should be going to explore.”

  Stephen yawned. “You can if you like. I’m going back to bed as soon as I’ve had breakfast.”

  The teenagers washed and made their way to the dining room. Kylie helped Margaret feed the dogs then joined the others. Breakfast was an almost silent meal. Kylie said little as she did not want to discuss what was on the top of her mind: what to do about Allison. To her relief no-one else said anything which could have caused a discussion.

  Kylie tried to decide if there was an air of restraint among the others or not. ‘They are probably just tired,’ she decided.

  As soon as breakfast was over the others all retired to their beds again. Kylie felt very tired but knew she would not sleep till she had studied the clues again. To save any problems she helped her mother wash up, then sat quietly until she was sure the others had gone back to sleep. Then she extracted the books, diary, letter and maps.

  The new map claimed her attention first and she scrutinized it carefully. Almost at once the name ‘Erin Mine’ stood out.

  “The ‘Erin Mine’,” she muttered, rubbing the name with her finger. “And there is a ‘Pride of Erin’ mine and also a ‘Hope of Erin’ mine.”

  The ‘Erin’ was shown as being down close to the junction of the East and West Mulgrave, nearly ten kilometres from where they had been searching. She picked up Dempsey’s book ‘Old Mining Towns of North Queensland’ and leafed through it till she found the page she wanted. Then she settled to read.

  Mulgrave Goldfield

  In October 1879 alluvial gold was brought into Cairns from the Mulgrave River, a fast-flowing stream that tumbles down a corridor behind a spur of the Coast Range, just south of Cairns. Within weeks, 140 men were fighting the boiling, foaming water, searching for the golden treasure trapped in the crevices and potholes. At Upper Camp, poor alluvial deposits were soon depleted, but reefs were found lower down. Later, above Goldsborough, more reefs, worked between Tooheys and Butchers Creeks, were rich during their short lives. Fanningtown, later known as Goldsborough, was a lively place in its first few years with three hotels and several stores. Goldsborough was on the south bank of Tooheys Creek close to its junction with the river. About 500m up the south bank of the creek was the battery, and across the creek, the cemetery.

  As she read this Kylie became worried. 1879? She was sure she had read that the goldfield Grandad Hector had been working on was in the 1930s. She was also puzzled by the description of the place. She had been to Goldsborough on swims and picnics. A study of the map showed her that the place they called Goldsborough was in fact several kilometres downstream from the actual town site, which she now realized she had never visited.

  There was the sound of footsteps and Graham came into the kitchen for a drink of water. He saw her and came over.

  “What ya doin’ sis?”

  “Trying to work out where we should be looking. I was just reading about the gold rush in the Mulgrave Valley at Goldsborough.” She showed him the passage and the locations of Toohey Creek and the old town. Graham took the book off her and sat down beside her to read.

  Kylie was troubled by the lack of any reference to gold discoveries in the area of the two Mulgraves. She picked up her other book: ‘Gold and Ghosts Volume 4’ and flicked it open at Chapter 6, which dealt with the Innisfail Mining District and which appeared, from the map, to cover the area she was interested in. While she was reading the Introduction Peter came out and joined them.

  Graham gave a few grunts while he read Dempsey. Then he held the book in front of her. “What about this, the Bartle Frere Goldfield?”

  Kylie took it and read the section. It said: ‘The small Bartle Frere Field, found by Wilkie and Kraft in 1936 or 1937, is between the two heads of the Mulgrave- the North and South Mulgrave. Kraft’s camp was on Krafts Creek at the foot of Coronation Hill. The gold was obtained from floaters- pieces of quartz lying about on the surface.’

  She looked up. “The dates are wrong. Grandad found his gold in 1932. I checked with his diary, and the date on the letter confirms it.”

  “Maybe so,” Graham said. “But there is a Krafts Camp marked here on this old map and that is in the right area, just across the river from the ‘Erin’ mine on your Mines Department Map,” Graham said. He held the map up for them both to see. Kylie noted the name ‘Krafts Camp’ on both maps and bit her lip. It was certainly exasperating. She bent back to reading ‘Gold and Ghosts’.

  “Here!” she cried happily, pointing to the page.

  “Here what?” Stephen asked as he came in from the toilet.

  Kylie held up the book. “It says here that: ‘for at least fifty years rich alluvial gold was won from the river, but Bartle Frere was not ‘officially’ discovered until about 1931’. So it is the right area.”

  She passed the book over. Stephen took up Dempsey and read that. Peter and Graham both bent over the pages, Graham muttering while he read. Margaret appeared, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She plonked herself down beside Kylie.

  Stephen held up the book and said: “I don’t like the sound of this bit. It says: ‘It can be described only as awful country. Everywhere, it is very steep, and normally rains every day, apart from a month or so in mid-winter’.”

  That caused a few wry faces. Graham shrugged. “Couldn’t be much worse than the area we have been looking in.”

  “I wouldn’t bet. That Top Camp is shown half way up the side of Bartle Frere,” Peter answered.

  “The area we are looking at is in the bottom of the valley on the other side of the river,” Kylie said.

  “Could still be rough country. But are you sure it is the right area?” Peter asked.

  “Yes I am,” Kylie replied. “Now some of the entries in Grandad’s Diary make more sense now. Listen to these. On the tenth of February he set out from the old farm to try a new area. He wrote: ‘Walk all day. Camp on ridge.’ Then the next day he said: ‘Go down the track to the “Erin”. Tough going in the wet.’ Down to the ‘Erin’ you see. And he walked for two days.”

  Peter nodded and looked thoughtful. “Could be. You wouldn’t say: ‘went down to the ‘Erin’ when referring to the mine we went to.”

  “No,” Kylie said. “But there’s more. Listen. ‘Twenty second of February. Frank needs to go to hospital. Help him pack and then take him down to Goldsborough’. Now I know where Goldsborough really is it makes sense. No-one from the goldfield up here would go all that way down the mountain. They would go to Malanda.” To emphasize her point she indicated the places on the map. Then she went on: “He goes on to say: ‘Spent the night there.’ Then the next day he says he w
ent back to Frank’s camp and tidied up, then returned to his own camp. If the camp was up here he would never do that in one day.”

  “Oh, he might,” Graham said, estimating the distance.

  Peter grunted. “Have to be bloody fit!” he commented.

  “He probably was,” Graham said.

  “No he wasn’t,” Kylie said. “The next comment in his dairy says: ‘very tired. Sick myself. Too ill to do any more today.’ He didn’t walk up the mountain.”

  “So where is the gold?” Stephen asked.

  Kylie pointed to the map. “Somewhere up one of the creeks near here. See this claim, the ‘Bright Smile’? It is mentioned in the diary, and in the letter. And there’s one more clue here too. On the twenty ninth of February, after he found the gold, he set off home. He says: ‘Post letter to Bert at the ‘Erin’. Take the Christmas Creek Track but can hardly get up the hill. Spent the night in the scrub.’ So he came up the mountain from somewhere down in the valley.”

  “That makes sense,” Graham agreed. “Christmas Creek flows into the West Mulgrave.”

  “There isn’t any track marked on the map,” Stephen commented.

  “I wouldn’t put much score on that,” Peter said. “What about all those ditches, flumes and so on we found? They weren’t on the map either. Those old timers would have had tracks all over the place. You can bet they would have one connecting two goldfields.”

  They accepted this. Stephen said: “So what do we do now?”

  Graham answered at once: “Organize an expedition to the Mulgrave Valley.”

  “We can’t do that from here. There’s no road,” Peter said.

  “Have to go in through Goldsborough and along past Kearneys Flats,” Graham replied. “Along that road we followed on our Scout camp the year before last.”

  Peter nodded thoughtfully. “We may have to walk. I don’t think you can drive cars in there.”