The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  Kylie looked out and up at the mountains which now towered up on either side. ‘You really know you are in a valley now,’ she thought. She studied the steep slopes which rose a kilometre to the west and was surprised to see that they were not covered in rainforest as she had supposed, but in fairly open savannah woodland. A check of the range to the east showed it was thickly clad in jungle. ‘Must be a rain shadow or something,’ she decided.

  The river at the third bridge was an angry spate of white water and jagged rocks. That worried Kylie but her mother seemed to be busy driving on the narrow concrete bridge. The road then wound uphill, first through a belt of fairly thick eucalyptus forest, then into true rainforest again. The rainforest hemmed the road in all the way to Kearneys Flats.

  They arrived at the National Park camping area. Uncle Bill was waiting there, his ute parked under some trees beside a toilet block. They pulled up and climbed out.

  “You can’t drive any further,” Uncle Bill explained, after greetings. “There is a locked gate.”

  Graham nodded. “We know. We did a Scout hike through here a couple of years ago,” he replied.

  “You had better go to the toilet here,” Uncle Bill added, looking at the girls. “After this it will be squatting in the bush.”

  “Oh yuk! Come on Kylie,” Allison said.

  Gear was unloaded and sorted. The adults talked and when Kylie came back from the toilet she overheard her mother saying: “Well, keep listening to the radio. I don’t want you flooded in.”

  Uncle Bill nodded. “I’ve got a radio in my pack. We will be careful, don’t worry.”

  There were farewells and packs and webbing were pulled on. Kylie was unpleasantly surprised at how heavy her pack was. It hadn’t seemed that heavy when she had tried it at home. She returned a kiss to her mother and started walking. As she did her spirits lifted even higher. ‘We are on the way. Now we will find the gold!’

  The boys were already twenty metres ahead, clad in a mixture of cadet and ex-army gear and laden with their army webbing and packs. Uncle Bill wore old overalls and had a very old army pack of the jute variety, with a blanket roll lashed to it. Kylie wore jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt and cloth hat. Margaret was similarly clad except she wore an old jungle green shirt. Allison had a white shirt, which Kylie privately thought she would soon regret.

  After a hundred paces they came to the gate. It was at the northern end of a large grassy clearing. They climbed over easily and continued on, out into the open.

  “This is the actual Kearneys Flat,” Graham explained. He had his map out and was following their progress almost step by step.

  A sign pointing left said: KEARNEYS FALLS.

  “Are we going to look at that?” Roger asked.

  Graham shook his head. “No time. We have to walk all the way to the end of the valley. Anyway, we’ve been up it before.”

  “We haven’t,” Margaret replied. She was already puffing and perspiring.

  “Never mind. We will come here for a picnic one day,” Graham replied.

  “Is that a promise?” Margaret asked, her face dimpling into a mischievous grin.

  Graham snorted and started walking again. Kylie grinned at Margaret. ‘He likes her really. One day he will realize she is the girl for him,’ she thought happily.

  The road had deteriorated to a rough and rutted muddy track which led across the clearing. Out in the open the sun struck them with particular force and they were soon all sweating. Kylie used her cloth hat to wipe perspiration off her face. She looked up at the mountains which now towered up on both sides. She noted that the slopes on her right were now also covered with thick rainforest.

  ‘That is where we are going,’ she mused. ‘Oh well!’

  The road re-entered rainforest and that was immediate relief as it gave them shade. The road was still in poor condition, with lots of deadfall and sticks on the surface.

  “This road doesn’t get much use,” Peter commented.

  “No,” Graham agreed. “In a few years they won’t be able to get a vehicle along it at all.”

  Kylie pointed down the slope to their right. “There is the river down there.”

  The road ran along a hundred paces up from the river. They got glimpses of it from time to time but could hear it the whole time. The walk settled down to a plod as far as Kylie was concerned. Her shoulder muscles began to ache and chafing started under her arms and between her legs.

  The group crossed a small creek which was flowing just enough to wet their ankles. Kylie managed to step from rock to rock but the boys just tramped through with their army boots.

  Margaret looked along the small creek. “This is pretty,” she called. She was puffing gamely along behind Kylie.

  Kylie had to agree. There were ferns and reeds, moss, bright orange lichens, butterflies with blue wings and butterflies with yellow and black wings. She started to hope they would have a rest soon but knew the boys would pour scorn on the idea so hoisted her pack to a more comfortable position and plodded on.

  They walked for the next two hours before stopping at another lovely little creek for lunch. By then Kylie’s shoulder muscles ached and she was developing blisters on both feet. Worse still she was starting to chafe under the armpits as the perspiration soaked cloth of her shirt rubbed on her skin. Lunch for Kylie was two chicken sandwiches and a drink of cordial.

  Margaret and Allison were both also looking quite worn and both let out loud groans when it was time to resume the march. However they shouldered their packs and plodded along gamely. Graham, Peter and Stephen walked so fast they were often out of sight ahead but Roger and Uncle Bill stayed with the girls. The road led on through thick rainforest and in places it was blocked by fallen trees. Undergrowth was now sprouting through the road surface.

  From time to time they got glimpses of steep, jungle-clad slopes towering above them on both sides. Every time they did Kylie thought of the description she had read. ‘Truly awful country. It looks it,’ she thought. It made her bite her lip with anxiety. With every kilometre the feeling grew in her that they were plunging deep into the heart of a true wilderness. ‘We are very isolated. I hope there aren’t any accidents.’

  They saw no other people and did not pass a single sign of human habitation. Only the road and an occasional overgrown clearing attested to the fact that people had once toiled here to win the gold and timber from the jungle.

  “Bartle Frere,” Graham called from the next bend. He stood and pointed up. As she reached the bend and took in the view Kylie felt a chill of fear grip her heart. The massive bulk of the mountain seemed to tower up and fill half the sky. It blocked their path in the direction she was looking although she knew there was a low saddle between it and the Bellenden Ker Range to the east. As they walked on she saw parts of this from time to time but mostly the thick vegetation restricted her vision along the road to about a hundred metres.

  The road came right down beside the river for a stretch and Kylie was dismayed to see that it appeared to be a flood of white foam tumbling over rapids.

  “How will we get across that?” she asked at their next stop.

  “It should be only half that size once we get up past the junction of the East and West Mulgrave,” Uncle Bill replied. He had also been anxiously scrutinizing the river. “If it is too deep then we will not try to cross.”

  That was a blow and Kylie fervently hoped the theory would be correct. In the event it was. After another half hour they came to where a concrete causeway led across. The causeway was covered by water which looked to be no more than knee deep.

  “East Mulgrave,” Graham said. “We are up above the junction. The main part of the old goldfield was up on that big ridge ahead of us.”

  Kylie lifted her eyes above the tree tops on the other bank and shook her head. ‘Truly awful country alright!’ she thought.

  Uncle Bill insisted they rest. Packs were dropped while he took off his boots and tested the depth of water, and th
e strength of the current on the causeway. Kylie watched anxiously while he waded out into the swiftly flowing water.

  To her relief it only came up to Uncle Bill’s calves and he easily crossed. However, when he returned he said: “I will carry all the packs across. You kids take off your boots. If you slip in then swim with the current downstream to the nearest bank.”

  Kylie stared at the tumbling water which foamed over rocks downstream of the causeway and knew she was scared. Margaret was also very worried. Uncle Bill insisted it was safe. “If it wasn’t I wouldn’t let you try,” he explained.

  “What if there is more rain and the river rises? We could be trapped,” Stephen said. That idea sent a chill through Kylie as well.

  Uncle Bill made a face and said: “That is why we must keep tabs on the weather. Now, give me your pack Kylie.”

  Half an hour later they were all on the other bank. Uncle Bill had held Kylie’s hand as they waded across and she found it was not as bad as she had feared. Rather it was the unexpected coldness which had caught her attention.

  Uncle Bill chuckled at this. “It is flowing down off the highest mountain in Queensland,” he reminded her.

  On the other side they paused to have another drink before pulling on boots and packs. As she swung her pack on Kylie looked around at the jungle and the foaming river and felt a surge of excitement. ‘The real search begins now!’ she thought happily.

  CHAPTER 21

  BELOW BARTLE FRERE

  From the causeway onwards the road deteriorated dramatically. It was deeply eroded, blocked by fallen trees, and overgrown wherever sunlight penetrated. Kylie shivered with apprehension. ‘We are right in the middle of the jungle now,’ she told herself. It seemed a very long way back to the nearest civilization. ‘I hope nothing goes wrong.’

  Five hundred metres further on they came to a creek. Graham had been walking with his map in his hand. He pointed up the creek. “Kraft Creek. There were diggings here.”

  Kylie looked around but could see no sign that the place had ever been anything but virgin jungle.

  Peter shook his head. “You wouldn’t think it,” he commented.

  “Where was the main gold field?” Margaret asked.

  Graham again pointed up the creek. “Up this creek and on the ridge beyond it.”

  “Do we have to go up there?” Allison asked. She looked very tired and strained.

  Graham shook his head. “No. The diggings we are interested in, the nineteen thirty ones are the other way, across the West Mulgrave; or at least I think so.”

  “Why do you say: ‘think so’?” Allison asked.

  “Because neither the old diary nor the letter actually mentions the Mulgrave,” Graham replied. “All it says is: cross the main stream.”

  “Does it? I can’t remember,” Margaret said, looking at Kylie.

  Kylie took out the copy of the old letter. The page was now soiled and crumpled and a bit hard to read.

  As they crowded round to read it Uncle Bill said: “You’d better keep that sheet of paper in a plastic bag Kylie. We will look a bit silly if we have come all this way and it gets wet and disintegrates.”

  Kylie felt foolish for not having thought of that. She had carried it in a plastic bag up at Christmas Creek but had taken it out at home. When they had confirmed that the letter did in fact say ‘cross the main stream’, she took out a plastic bag and slid the letter into it.

  “Where do we go now?” Stephen asked.

  “We have to find the ‘Erin’ mine,” Graham said.

  “How do we do that?” Allison asked, gesturing at the wall of dense jungle hemming them in.

  “From the Mine’s Department map,” Peter said. “Dig it out Kylie.”

  Kylie dumped her pack and did so. They studied this. Peter pointed at a creek marked on it. “I reckon this creek is Kraft Creek, where we are now, so it should be just along the valley a few hundred metres.”

  The old road went on across the creek, heading south along the bank of Kraft Creek but it was even more overgrown and even harder to follow. They set off along it, having to push through vines and undergrowth which almost blocked it. A faint trail showed.

  After a couple of dozen paces the road forked. Both branches were badly eroded and overgrown but the one going west along the main valley seemed the clearest and showed signs of having been cleared at some time in the recent past. Graham pointed at the road going left along the creek.

  “I reckon that is the road that went up Bartle Frere to the goldfield.”

  “Did it go all the way to the top?” Margaret asked.

  Graham shook his head. “No, only up onto one of the lower ridges, to a place called Coronation Lookout on the spur between Kraft Creek and Babinda Creek.”

  “So which way do we go?” Allison asked.

  “Right. The ‘Erin’ mine should be just along here a few hundred metres,” Graham replied.

  The groups set off along the overgrown road. Graham pointed to places where vines or saplings had been cut. “Someone’s been along here recently.”

  “I hope they haven’t found our gold,” Margaret commented.

  “Probably just the local Scout troop,” Peter said.

  The going wasn’t all that difficult but it was very hot and humid and Kylie found herself sweating profusely again. By this time she was tired and sore and her shoulders and back ached. From the look of them Margaret and Allison were also feeling the same way. To Kylie’s annoyance the boys seemed quite unaffected and pushed on at a pace she found hard to maintain.

  After ten minutes walking Graham and Peter stopped. Kylie’s eyes followed Graham’s pointing finger to what appeared to be mounds of earth amidst the trees. The place had obviously once been a clearing as the vegetation was different from the surrounding rain forest. She saw four large logs piled one on top of the other.

  Stephen saw it too and said: A ramp to load bulldozers on a truck, or to unload things.”

  Margaret pointed to a rusty object half hidden by creepers. “What’s that?” she asked.

  They looked. It was some sort of machine, all shrouded in vines and ferns. The group moved to cluster around it and Stephen dragged some of the vines off. “A motor, or a pump or something,” he said.

  “Pump,” Uncle Bill said. He then pointed down and they saw a rusty pipeline half buried in the leafmould. The pipe line led off to the north along what had obviously once been a road.

  “I reckon this is the ‘Erin’ mine,” Graham said.

  Kylie felt her heart rate quicken. “Oh, I hope so,” she said.

  “So let’s start searching,” Stephen said.

  Allison groaned. “Can’t we stop for a rest? I’m sick of carrying this pack.”

  Uncle Bill supported her. Graham and Stephen both grumbled but Kylie did not care. Much as she was fired with the desire to find the gold she could see that Margaret and Allison both needed a rest. To ease the situation she sat on her pack and took out the letter again.

  “From here we are supposed to go south, cross the main stream, then turn right at the mine called the ‘Bright Smile’.”

  Graham frowned and looked at his map. “That can’t be right. If we go south from here we will be going uphill. The main stream is north of us.”

  That threw them. Kylie felt the same nagging sense of frustration that had dogged her all along. ‘Every time we seem to be getting somewhere it all ends up not making sense!’

  She had to read the letter aloud again and they studied the map.

  “Maybe the West Mulgrave isn’t the main stream?” Peter suggested. They discussed this but could not think which creek might be the main stream otherwise.

  Margaret was sitting beside Kylie. She leaned over to read over her shoulder. “What does it mean in the paragraph above where it says ‘Just in case I don’t make it follow these instructions using the method we used at school.’ What does he mean by the method we used at school do you think?”

  Peter let out
an exclamation of delight. “Well done Marg! What a mob of noddies we are for not noticing that.”

  “But what does it mean?” Allison asked in a puzzled voice.

  “It is some sort of schoolboy secret code I reckon,” Peter said.

  They all looked at each other and Kylie felt a surge of hope.

  Margaret frowned. “But what is the secret?” she asked.

  “Be something simple,” Stephen said.

  Peter agreed. He nodded, then said: “What if they just reversed everything; ‘go’ means ‘stop’; ‘right’ means ‘left’; and so on?”

  “We can try it. It is better than just blundering about the bloody jungle,” Stephen answered. He took off his glasses and wiped them as condensation was fogging them up.

  Graham stood up. “So let’s go.”

  There were groans but the others moved. Packs were hoisted on. By the time Kylie was ready Graham and Peter had already vanished from sight along the old road. They followed, catching them up after a few minutes as they snipped their way through a tangle of wait-a-while were a tree had recently fallen down across the track.

  Ten minutes of slow movement brought them to the West Mulgrave. They could hear it before they saw it and Kylie worried that it might be so much in flood that they could not cross it. To her relief she saw that it looked quite easy to cross. The river was about fifty metres wide and had several large piles of rocks in midstream but otherwise it was just knee deep and clear.

  Boots were removed and slung around their necks. This time they linked hands and went across in a chain. There were a few anxious moments in the middle where a deep hole made it thigh deep for a few steps. The water was cold but refreshing. Kylie stubbed her toe once and nearly cried aloud at the pain but was able to hobble ashore.

  As they sat to dry their feet Allison asked: “How much further?”

  “Not far,” Graham replied.

  “Why don’t we camp here?” Stephen asked.