The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  The others crowded around. “What’s going on?” Graham asked. “What are you doing here Bert?”

  “Looking for you to warn you,” Bert replied. He was still panting and his chest heaved between words. “Those crooks are in this area looking for you.”

  “We know,” Graham replied. “We have met them.”

  A look of pain crossed Bert’s face. “Oh. I’d hoped to get here first. They are following you. What did they do?”

  “Robbed us,” Graham said angrily.

  Bert looked miserable. “Sorry. I thought they would just wait till you had found the gold mine, then try to muscle in on the claim; try to register it before you could. Did they take much?”

  “About a million dollars worth of gold,” Peter answered.

  “Gold! A million.... Gold! Did you find it then, the ‘Jewellers Shop’?”

  “Yes we did,” Uncle Bill replied. “And we’ve staked our claims.”

  “But... but where did the gold come from?” Bert asked.

  “Grandad Hector collected a dozen jars of the stuff and hid it there,” Uncle Bill replied. “We found it; or rather Stephen did.”

  “Great! But they took it? How?” Bert asked.

  The robbery was described. Bert looked very unhappy. “I think it was my fault. When I went home last Wednesday mum asked when I was going to Cairns again to see Allie and I said: ‘not for a week, they are going on another expedition to look for the gold mine’. I realized then what I was doing and clammed up so I didn’t tell her where you were going.”

  “You knew though?” Graham queried.

  Bert made a wry smile. “It was pretty obvious. When you dropped the maps of the Mulgrave it was plain that it was not just a cunning ploy to fool me.”

  “Was Victor there when you were talking to your mum?” Kylie asked. She did not want to ask but knew she had to. She saw a look of pain cross Allison’s face as she did.

  Bert bit his lip and nodded. “Yes he was. I think he is with these crooks. Did you see him?”

  “No we didn’t,” Kylie replied. That set her thinking. Where was Victor?

  Peter said: “That old prospector said that there were three men looking for us this morning. He was probably the third man.”

  Bert pointed back along the track. “Is that the old bloke back there in the mine?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just spoke to him and he said that three men came this way,” Bert said.

  “So Victor stayed out of sight while his cronies did the robbery,” Stephen suggested.

  “No. The old guy said that he only saw two men come back,” Bert replied. He looked very upset and worried. “I’m sorry. It is all my fault!”

  “Time for that later. Let’s get out of here,” Uncle Bill said. “We must get across the river before the rain floods it.”

  Bert shook his head. “Too late. I came across half an hour ago and nearly got washed away. It was rising fast then and I don’t like your chances.”

  “We must try anyway,” Uncle Bill said. He set off along the track at a fast walk.

  As they walked Graham asked Bert: “Did you see the two crooks?”

  Bert shook his head. “No. I think I came in along another track. The old prospector pointed down a different one from the one I followed. I came past your camp.”

  “A line of packs in a little clearing?” Graham queried.

  Bert nodded. “That’s right.” He paused to look up as a strong gust shook the tree tops above them. “I hope we aren’t stuck here. That cyclone is getting closer fast. Mum was real upset when I defied her to drive down here. I don’t feel good about it at all.”

  “What happened?” Allison asked. Kylie strained her ears to hear above the wind and rain.

  “At breakfast I asked mum where Victor was. He wasn’t at home yesterday either and didn’t come home last night. She said he had gone pig shooting or something with a couple of his mates. The moment she told me who they were I knew what they were up to.”

  “So you weren’t with them?” Peter called back over his shoulder.

  “No. I was at home. I only found out this morning. I left home straight away and drove down to that picnic area about ten kilometres back.”

  “When did you get there?” Graham asked.

  “I left home about eight O’clock. So it must have been about nine. I ran from there,” Bert replied.

  “You must be bloody fit!” Graham replied.

  “Not really. I did a lot of jogging and fast walking. I was worried about Allie.” He gave her a smile and she blushed with pleasure and smiled back. Kylie grinned and felt a warm glow for them.

  By then they were at the Old Prospector’s camp. He was busy rigging canvas sides to the two open sides of his shelter. The wind had stopped again but the rain was still pouring down. The clearing was all slush and mud. At the entrance to the mine a small diesel pump was puttering, spewing water out into a drain.

  “In ye come. I wondered when ye’d be back,” the Old Prospector replied. He looked at Bert. “I see ye found yer friends.”

  Bert nodded. “Yes thanks.”

  Graham asked: “Did you see those three men come back this way?”

  The Old Prospector nodded and gestured towards the track leading off beside his shelter. “Aye. ‘bout half an hour ago. I were workin’ on me pump over there and they didn’t see me. They went that way, ‘cept there weren’t three, only two. I presumed the other fella was with you.”

  “No he isn’t,” Uncle Bill replied. He looked very worried.

  “They robbed us!” Margaret added indignantly.

  “Robbed ye! Aye, they were a mean looking pair of cusses, particularly that big blond brute,” the Old Prospector replied.

  “Did they go across the river?” Graham asked.

  “Don’t know,” the Old Prospector replied.

  “We must look,” Graham replied.

  Uncle Bill tried to restrain him but Graham shook his head and started walking down the side track. “We have to know. If they are still on this side of the river we have a double problem.”

  Uncle Bill nodded sadly, then agreed. “Yes. And we must cross the river as quickly as we can too, or we will be cut off as well. Come on. See you later Mr Donaldson.”

  “Oh aye. Ye’ll be back then will you?” the Old Prospector asked.

  “You bet. We’ve all staked claims,” Uncle Bill replied.

  “Have ye now! Now don’t tell me that ye have gone and found the famous ‘Jewellers Shop’,” the Old Prospector asked, his bewhiskered face alive with interest.

  “We have. Tell you about it after this cyclone,” Uncle Bill replied. “Come on kids.”

  Peter and Uncle Bill both went off after Graham along the track. The others followed, wishing the old man well as they did.

  “What about our packs?” Roger asked.

  “Leave them,” Uncle Bill replied. “We can get them after the cyclone. They will only slow us down anyway.”

  It was only a hundred metres to the river. Well before they reached it they could hear the rush of floodwaters. When they were still well inside the jungle they encountered flowing water. It took some scouting to find a place where they could get a clear view of the river and even then they had to wade out through waist deep water among the trees and vines.

  One glance at the foaming water was enough. They were too late.

  Kylie stared at the river in frightened amazement. Gone was the enchanting stream of the morning gurgling slowly from pool to pool. In its place was a raging, foaming torrent a hundred metres wide. Large boulders protruded from the welter of foam but Kylie could not see any way to get across.

  “It must have been raining heavily up in the headwaters during the night,” Uncle Bill said.

  “What do we do?” Margaret asked. She looked frightened and was shivering with cold, her arms covered with goose bumps.

  “Go back and camp till the river goes down,” Uncle Bill replied. He looked so unhappy Kyl
ie’s heart went out to him. ‘Poor Uncle Bill. He will be in trouble for not getting us out in time and all the parents will be so worried.’

  Graham set off, splashing through the flooded jungle. “I’ll just check that those men are gone,” he called. “I don’t fancy sharing a camp with them.”

  He had not gone ten metres before he let out a cry and gestured for the others of join him. He pointed out through a gap in the trees as they splashed over. “The men. They didn’t make it in time.”

  Kylie peered through the foliage and gasped. Out in mid-stream, perched on top of a huge pile of rocks, were the two men. They were staring around them at the rushing water and did not look happy. Both had removed their balaclavas and Kylie saw that she had been right; it was Burg and Donk. Donk still wore his haversack but neither now appeared to be armed.

  “They are trapped,” Peter observed.

  “Good!” Margaret added.

  A horrible thought came to Kylie. “If the river rises more then they could be washed off and drowned.”

  “Serves them right,” was Stephen’s comment.

  “They could swim for it,” Graham suggested.

  Uncle Bill shook his head: “They wouldn’t have a hope. No-one could swim in that and live. You would be tumbled over and over by the turbulence. You would whack your head against a rock and be knocked unconscious. Then you would drown.”

  “We must do something to save them,” Kylie said, appalled at the thought of the two men being killed.

  “What can we do?” Stephen said. “We have to save ourselves.”

  “We could try to get a rope to them,” Graham suggested.

  “Where are you going to get a rope a hundred metres long?” Peter asked.

  “From the Old Prospector?” Graham replied.

  “I wonder where Vic is?” Bert said.

  Kylie had forgotten Victor but now she felt a stab of anxiety. Where was he? Was he waiting on the other bank?

  Bert waded and swam forward to the edge of the trees and clambered onto a boulder where the men could see him. He waved his arms and shouted. “Hoy! Hello! Hey you blokes!”

  Kylie saw the two men’s heads turn. Bert yelled at the top of his voice: “Where is Vic?”

  Burg put his hand to his ear to indicate he could not hear but Donk pointed back to their bank. Bert yelled again, asking if Victor was on the other bank.

  “No,” Donk yelled back. Again he pointed back and called. Kylie could not hear him properly because of the sound of rushing water but she understood that Victor was somewhere on their bank. “Save us!” wailed Donk.

  Bert came splashing back after again trying to get a clear answer. He looked very strained. “Vic is somewhere on this bank. I don’t like this. I hope they haven’t done anything to him.”

  CHAPTER 27

  VICTOR

  “Where is Victor? We must find him,” Bert said. He looked around in a distracted way.

  “Ask those crooks again,” Peter suggested.

  Bert shook his head. “They won’t tell me. I’ve tried that. I’m worried they have done something to him.”

  “Murdered him you mean?” Stephen blurted out, voicing all their fears and causing Bert to compress his lips into a grim line. He nodded unhappily.

  “But why?” Margaret queried.

  “So they wouldn’t have to share the loot probably,” Stephen said.

  Kylie did not like the trend of the conversation. She said: “Let’s think positive to begin with. Victor might be at our camp.”

  “Or lost in the jungle,” Stephen added gloomily.

  “Let’s go to our camp,” Uncle Bill said. “We need to go there anyway. You kids need some food and dry clothes.”

  They made their way back to the Old Prospector’s camp. Here they paused while Bert and Uncle Bill checked the Old Prospector’s story. He was adamant that three men had gone west along the track towards Nugget Creek but that only two had returned. “As I said, I thought one of them had stayed with you, like this young fella did.”

  “We are cut off by the floods,” Uncle Bill said. “What do you recommend we do? Where is the safest place in a cyclone?”

  The Old Prospector grinned. “Somewhere else! Another hundred kilometres inland. But search me. I ain’t never been through a cyclone in the jungle afore. I guess here’s as good as anywhere if you care to join me.”

  Uncle Bill nodded. “Thanks. The cyclone may not come here at all but we need to be ready. We will go and get our packs and then have lunch.”

  It was still raining steadily and the wind was gusting again. The group walked rapidly east to Reward Creek and stopped in surprise. The creek was flowing deep and swift. However they were still able to cross by jumping from rock to rock and climbing along a tree trunk which grew out at an angle.

  Ten minutes later they were at their camp. To Kylie’s intense disappointment Victor was not there. They walked on down to the river to check if he was there, and on the off-chance that it might be possible to cross there. Victor was not there either, and they could not get within twenty metres of the edge of the jungle. Swirling floodwaters had swamped the forest.

  “There aren’t crocodiles in this river are there?” Margaret asked. Kylie looked at the dark, swirling waters, with their surface load of floating debris and shuddered. “No,” she replied shortly. ‘We’ve got enough to worry about without conjuring up more horrors,’ she thought.

  The group returned to their camp and picked up their packs. These were swung on and they made their way back to Reward Creek. Uncle Bill would not let them cross with their packs. He had Graham and Peter cross and then swung the packs across one at a time himself. Then the teenagers went across one at a time, held by Uncle Bill and then passed to Peter and Graham.

  The group returned to the Old Prospector’s camp in torrential rain. They found him busy digging his storm drains deeper. All were ushered inside but that made it very cramped. Still, it was a real relief to be out of the rain and under cover. The Old Prospector kept digging. Kylie watched him as he carefully dug mud from the drain and piled it inside the tent.

  “It’s not the drain that’s important,” the Old Prospector explained. “It’s the dam inside. The drain is just a borrow pit to get the soil from. The drain fills up in a few minutes. The dam is what stops the surface flow from running into your tent. So it must be inside the tent so that the floor doesn’t fill up and you can maintain it. Would ye mind fixing that bit over there?”

  He indicated a section of the dam which was low enough for water to start seeping over the top. Graham and Roger both moved to kneel and pat the mud into a higher, more solid dyke.

  “That’s good boys. Now, let’s re-arrange this so we are all a bit more comfortable,” the Old Prospector said. They were moved to sit around the outside of the shelter, leaving the centre clear and also the entrance to the tent and near the fireplace. The Old Prospector had stacked up cords of firewood on cross pieces, which kept it out of the mud and dry. They sat on the firewood, on old boxes, or on their packs.

  The Old Prospector pointed to his tent. “You’d better all get out of them wet clothes before you get a chill,” he said.

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “No, we are going out again as soon as we have had a feed. We have to find Victor.”

  “Who’s Victor?” the Old Prospector asked.

  “My brother,” Bert said. “I am Bert Reid. Victor was with those two men.”

  “Oh aye. Then ye’d best look for him. It wouldn’t do for him to be out in this weather all night,” the Old Prospector replied. He placed a billy on the fire and added sticks to build up the flames.

  Kylie sat on her pack and followed the lead of Uncle Bill and Graham, both of whom took out their stoves. “Hot food,” Uncle Bill said. “You need to keep up your body core temperature, and your morale.”

  Kylie wasn’t really hungry. Indeed she felt sick at heart with anxiety over the approaching storm and with worry over what had become of Victor
. However she made herself heat a tin of sausages and vegetables and ate this. Once she started spooning the warm food in her appetite returned and she quickly downed the lot. By then the billy was boiled and she gratefully accepted a cup of hot, sweet tea to which she added condensed milk.

  “At least we have enough cups this time,” she said as the Old Prospector poured the hot water into her cup.

  During the meal Uncle Bill took out his radio and set it up. Reception was even worse and all they could glean was that the cyclone was still heading their way and was intensifying. The news that it was expected to develop into a Category 3 by evening was sobering to all of them.

  At length Uncle Bill drained his cup. “Time we went. It is half past twelve. If the cyclone is coming we want to find Victor and be back here as quickly as we can. I think you girls should stay here.”

  Kylie shook her head. “No. I want to look. We can all help.”

  Uncle Bill looked doubtful so Kylie persisted. “Please Uncle Bill. We don’t want to be left here with those horrible men just down there at the river. They might manage to get ashore.”

  That made Margaret gasp with concern. Graham said: “Should we keep watch on them?”

  “Not a bad idea. What if two of you do that. You can keep on checking up on the camp in case Victor wanders in. Who would like to stay?”

  No-one volunteered so Uncle Bill said: “Stephen, you and Roger stay. That way you can keep those glasses of yours dry most of the time. If the men come ashore, or if Victor arrives, then come along the track to our find to tell us. We will be along there somewhere.”

  There was a bustle of preparation. Raincoats were donned and Uncle Bill took a haversack containing his First Aid kit, radio, food and water. As soon as all were ready they made their way outside. Even the Old Prospector joined them, a piece of old tarpaulin draped over his head and shoulders.

  They set off back along the track to the Jeweller’s Shop. As they walked Graham and Peter studied the ground carefully for any sign of tracks or broken vegetation off to the side. The others followed, scanning the jungle on either side as they walked slowly along. The rain persisted but varied from heavy showers to solid drizzle.