The Publicity Push
Page 29
Suddenly Uncle Bill stumbled. His foot slipped in the mud. He let out a cry of alarm and tried to regain his balance but caught his foot against a tree root. With a cry of pain he fell, knocking Bert aside as he did. The stretcher coming down heavily on top of them. Victor was rolled out and let out a ghastly moan which made Kylie’s blood run cold.
“Are you alright Uncle Bill?” Graham asked as Uncle Bill muttered and grimaced. They lifted the empty stretcher off him.
“Think I’ve sprained my ankle. I’ll be alright,” Uncle Bill said. He stood up and shook his head angrily. “Come on, let’s get Victor back on the stretcher.”
They lifted Victor back on and Uncle Bill moved to lift his corner again. It was immediately apparent that he was hurt more badly than he wanted them to admit. However he gamely carried the stretcher another fifty paces before calling on Graham to take over. By then Margaret and Allison were visibly weakening and were only able to last twenty or thirty paces before calling for help.
Allison ended up dropping her corner. It slipped from her hands but Margaret was able to save it from a fall. Peter told them to lower the stretcher. They then stood disconsolately in the rain with heads bowed and chests heaving.
“This is no good,” Graham said angrily. “The bloody track is too narrow. Pete, get your toggle rope.”
Under Graham’s direction Peter took the strong three metre long nylon rope off his webbing. Graham did likewise, then tied the ends to the handles of the stretcher. “I saw this in a movie about World War One,” he explained. He then wriggled in between the stretcher poles and placed the rope over his shoulder like a yoke. Peter did the same at the back.
“Help us up. All hands on. Prepare to lift... lift!” Graham cried. Uncle Bill and Margaret steadied Graham as he stood up, his face going red from the strain. Bert and Kylie helped Peter up. As soon as the two boys were steady on their feet Graham began walking. “Hold the sides of the stretcher and steady us so we don’t slip,” he instructed.
It was immediately apparent that this was a better method, but Kylie could also see that it was a terrible strain on the two boys. However they stuck it for a hundred paces and reached Franks Claim. That was a relief. Uncle Bill moved to take over the front but Graham refused as Uncle Bill had been limping. Bert took over from Peter and they turned left and headed for Nugget Creek.
They almost made it to Nugget Creek in one lift but by then Graham was gasping, his laboured breathing audible even at the rear. They had another rest and then pressed on to the creek.
Seeing it was another shock but also a boost to morale. ‘Not far now,’ Kylie told herself to try to keep her spirits up. The creek was a real spate now and rocks which had earlier been exposed were now covered. Stephen and Roger waited on the far bank and had a rope tied across.
There was a delay while they debated how to get across. In the end they passed all the loose items across first. Uncle Bill insisted that no-one be in the yokes while they crossed. “You must be able to get free if you slip,” he said.
It wasn’t far but was just too great a distance to pass the stretcher. Graham, Peter and Uncle Bill edged into the fast flowing rapids and wedged themselves against rocks with their arms hooked around the rope tied across. The stretcher was then passed slowly from hand to hand. To Kylie this was a real heart-in-mouth operation as she could see that if they dropped Victor in he would be instantly swept away and drowned.
Her relief when Roger and Stephen reached forward to grasp the front handles was intense. They eased the stretcher across and the Old Prospector took over while Roger moved into the water. Then the stretcher was across and they could all heave a sigh of relief.
“You girls now,” Graham ordered. They gripped each other and were passed from hand to hand. Kylie found this frightening as she was completely swept off her feet the moment she entered the rapids. Only Peter’s strong grip stopped her from being washed head over heels downstream. He passed her to Graham, then to Roger, then to Stephen, who hauled her up the bank.
Margaret, Allison and Bert followed.
“Oh I’m glad that is over,” Margaret cried thankfully.
Only then did Kylie realize that they had another crisis on their hands, and one which was potentially fatal.
Uncle Bill had lost his footing and slipped into deeper water. He clawed frantically at a rock and managed to stop himself from being swept away but the look of agony on his face told Kylie he was in real trouble. He was in the middle of the creek and to her horror she saw that the force of the water was pushing him over so that it surged and foamed up over his shoulders.
“Help! Help!” Uncle Bill cried. “My foot is stuck!”
Graham acted at once. He yelled: “Grab me Pete!” As soon as Peter had a grip on his waistband Graham stepped forward into the foam, bracing his boots against rocks under the water. He reached out for Uncle Bill’s desperately clawing hand. In a second he had hold of it. Kylie clutched her hand to her heart and held her breath. With a heave Graham pulled Uncle Bill up so that his head was again clear of the water.
There was a desperate struggle for a few seconds. Roger splashed in to help, grabbing Peter around the waist to steady him. Graham was able to reach down and grab Uncle Bill’s shirt. Graham reached down so that his head was under water, allowing him to get his arms under Uncle Bill’s. With a convulsive heave he hauled Uncle Bill up. Suddenly Uncle Bill came free. His legs were instantly swept downstream and he trailed in the racing water, his boots throwing up showers of spray.
For another minute they struggled. Bert went into the water and reached out to help. His clawing fingers closed on Uncle Bill’s leg and a moment later he was ashore. Peter and Roger hauled Graham ashore. Kylie and Margaret both went to help. For a moment they just stood with water draining off them.
“Phew! That was close,” Graham said. He grinned and hugged Margaret close. She sighed with relief and then scolded him: “That was a foolish thing to do! You could have been drowned.”
Graham grinned. “Uncle Bill doesn’t think so. Now, come on, let’s get Vic to the shelter.”
That effectively defused the emotion and they quickly organized themselves. Uncle Bill was clearly in pain as it was the same leg he had injured earlier. He was helped up by Margaret and he leaned on her while hopping off along the track. Roger, Stephen and the Old Prospector took over the front of the stretcher and the others shared the rear. That made things much easier. As well the track was better to move along.
This time they made good progress and arrived at the Old Prospector’s camp after a few minutes. The stretcher was eased into the tent and Bert and the Old Prospector got rapidly to work. They peeled the wet sleeping bag and plastic off and passed it out, then stripped Victor and towelled him dry. He was lifted onto the Old Prospector’s folding camp bed. Blankets were then wrapped around him and he was made comfortable.
“You kids had better get into some dry clothes too,” Uncle Bill said. He was seated on a box and was unlacing his boot.
Allison looked around: “Where can we change?”
Bert grinned at her: “Here if you like.”
Allison went bright pink but returned the smile. Kylie at once said: “You boys go outside while the girls change.”
“What! Chucked out into the storm like poor little homeless children!” Peter cried in mock horror.
Graham stood up. “Come on, let’s go and have a look at those men. Are they still there Roger?”
“They were an hour ago,” Roger replied. The boys went outside and sloshed off down the muddy track towards the river. Uncle Bill limped into the tent and pulled the flaps across.
The girls quickly found their packs, dug out towels and dry clothes, then stood with their backs to each other while they stripped and dried themselves. Kylie found it a real relief to pull on the dry clothes, although she got mud on her feet and trousers.
When they were changed they went into the tent to see how Victor was. Bert, Uncle Bill and the Old Pr
ospector went out to change. Soon after that the boys came back.
“Were the men still there?” Kylie asked.
“Yes, clinging to the top of a big rock,” Graham replied. “They aren’t going anywhere in a hurry.”
“Unless they get washed off by the flood,” Roger added.
“I hope they are,” Stephen said.
Kylie was horrified at this callous comment but had to admit she did not like the men. ‘Still, they don’t deserve to die,’ she thought.
“I think they’ve lost their guns,” Peter added.
“Good!” Kylie replied. That was something.
“Can we get changed now?” Roger asked. “I’m freezing in these wet clothes.”
The girls were sent into the tent and the flap lowered again. While they waited in the tent Kylie thought hard about what they should do next. It was obvious that Victor needed proper medical attention.
By the time the boys had changed it had become quite gloomy. The Old Prospector lit a pressure lantern and then rekindled his fire. “Good cup of tea is what we all want,” he said.
“What do we do now?” Margaret asked.
“Get Vic to hospital,” Bert said.
Uncle Bill shook his head: “Not in this.” He gestured to the outside where Kylie saw that it was now twilight and where the wind and rain were increasing in force.
“But he needs a doctor!” Bert cried. “He might die otherwise.”
CHAPTER 29
NIGHT
“If we try to go anywhere in these conditions then we could kill someone,” Uncle Bill replied. “We will have to wait till morning.”
That was an appalling idea but they all agreed it was sensible. Bert bit his lip but swallowed and nodded.
“A good feed is what we all need now, and a good hot cup of tea,” the Old Prospector added. He had heated water by this time and they lined up to make hot drinks. Kylie opted for Milo with sugar and condensed milk. As she sipped this Uncle Bill switched on his radio and they listened to the latest cyclone report.
This was no comfort. The cyclone had intensified to Category 3, which meant it could have wind gusts of several hundred kilometres per hour. It was now closer, being only about 200km away, to the North North East of Cairns.
“It’s coming our way,” Graham said gloomily.
“We are in the edge of it now,” Peter commented.
Allison looked anxiously at the canvas walls as they shook to a wind gust. “How big are they?”
“Cyclones can be several hundred kilometres in diameter,” Uncle Bill explained. “They vary, but they can hit half North Queensland in one go.”
“They aren’t like tornados which only last a few hours or minutes and only devastate a small strip,” Stephen added.
Allison did not look happy with this information. Kylie shook her head and wished that the boys would stop talking about cyclones. She was scared and knew it. In her heart she felt sick with apprehension, both for herself and her friends, but particularly for Victor.
Hot food was prepared and they sat and ate, mostly in silence. Outside the wind started to whine in the tree tops and the rain drummed even harder on the roof, making it difficult to carry on a normal conversation. By the time the evening meal had been eaten it was fully dark.
There was nothing to do then but prepare for the night. “You will all sleep fully dressed and with your raincoats and boots on,” Uncle Bill said.
“But my boots are wet,” Allison commented in surprise.
“Too bad. Try to dry them at the fire now. But if we have an emergency in the night you can’t go running around in bare feet,” Uncle Bill replied.
They all saw the sense in that and set to work stoking up the fire to dry socks and footwear. Graham also draped his sopping sleeping bag over a line above the fire to try to dry it out. More hot drinks were prepared and they sat in an anxious huddle listening as the sounds of nature’s fury outside grew audibly stronger. The canvas sides began to slat and flap and the iron roof started to groan and shake.
Every few minutes there would be a strong gust which caused them all to glance anxiously at the source of the sound. After an hour of this Margaret suddenly burst into tears and cried out.
“Oh I’m sacred! I wish it would end!”
Kylie was about to move over to comfort her when Graham reached out and put his arm around her. Margaret thankfully snuggled into his embrace and that made Kylie feel much better as well. Time crept past very slowly. Bert sat at the front of the tent where he could see Victor’s face and he checked him every few minutes. Kylie half expected him to report that he had died each time he did this and she steeled herself to face the worst.
And it did get worse. They tried to listen to the next hourly advice on the radio but atmospheric interference defeated them. A thunder storm was building up and the sound of thunder crept closer. After a while the camp was being lit up by lightning flashes every few seconds. The wind and rain increased in fury and so did their fear.
Uncle Bill had them all get into their sleeping bags and try to rest. The Old Prospector packed away all of his cooking utensils and other belongings and asked them to do the same. He then went outside to re-peg the tent which had begun to shake and flap alarmingly. He added guy ropes to the surrounding trees.
There weren’t enough sleeping bags. Allison shared hers with Bert and Margaret and Graham wrapped themselves in hers. Kylie snuggled up between them and Peter. Uncle Bill wrapped his around him but stayed seated on the box listening to the radio and watching.
The storm increased in strength as the hours dragged on. Water began to flow across the floor and they were soon soaked. Attempts to stem the flow were futile and they soon gave up and huddled in their wet bedding, trying to keep as warm as they could. Several times the rending sounds of trees or branches crashing down out in the jungle made them all start up in fright.
Allison began to whimper and beg the storm to stop. Bert patted and stroked her, in between checking on his brother. Kylie nodded with approval when she saw Graham hug Margaret closer and then pat her gently.
Suddenly the canvas front ripped from top to bottom. The canvas flapped wildly, thundering and cracking. The lantern was sent flying and Kylie heard the tinkle of breaking glass. They were plunged into darkness, broken by the lightning flashes and a dull glow from the fire. This soon died away as rain lashed in. Graham and Peter tried to restrain the wildly flogging canvas but both got battered and flicked by it and were driven back. Uncle Bill shouted at them to give it up and to keep away.
Now the cyclone became truly terrifying. In the flashes of lightening Kylie could see the trees across the clearing threshing and twisting as though being shaken by a demented giant. Surface water several centimetres deep began flowing through the shelter. It was cold and she felt so scared she could only pray for it all to stop.
Roger put it in perspective when he shouted in answer to Graham’s comment about the roof starting to come off: “Could be worse. I’m glad I’m not out in the middle of the river trying to cling to a wet rock.”
The thought of the probable plight, and possible fate, of the two men made Kylie feel very upset. She tried to push the image out of her mind but it kept returning. They would be so cold their fingers would cramp and their grip could fail. She kept praying and shaking her head.
Another savage gust shook the shelter. ‘I don’t believe this!’ she thought. ‘It is getting stronger!’
There were several very close lightning strikes. There was no time lapse between the flash and the thunder, which came as heart stopping cracks so loud Kylie cried out in fear. The rain began to fluctuate in intensity, one moment a torrential downpour and the next just drizzle. The wind was shifting too, blowing stronger than ever and changing direction to blow more from the south.
“That cyclone must be moving south,” Peter yelled to Graham. Kylie thought about this, trying to remember what she had been taught at school. Cyclones in the southern hemisphere rota
ted in a clockwise direction. That meant that, if the wind was coming from the south then the cyclone had to be out to the east of them somewhere.
“That is good news isn’t it?” she cried.
“Yes, it means it is heading parallel to the coast and not directly towards us,” Peter answered.
“Don’t forget that these mountains will be channelling and deflecting the wind,” Graham reminded. “We can’t really tell much from the wind direction here.”
Kylie was about to speak when she was interrupted by an odd groaning noise. For a second she thought it was Victor crying out but then she realized it was much louder than that and outside. She opened her mouth to ask what it was just as another fierce gust shook the shelter.
“Look out!” Peter yelled.
But look out for what? Kylie could not see and all she, or the others could do, was cringe in fear as a massive splintering and crashing noise sounded above the storm. Suddenly the roof burst apart and she was struck hard on the shoulder. Sheet iron struck her on the head and she felt wet leaves all over her face.
A tree! She knew instantly what had happened. A tree had been blown down and had crashed onto the shelter. She felt panic surge, even as the sheet of iron was whipped away by the wind. She got a terrified glimpse of it whirling through the air in the next flash of lightning. This also revealed that half the shelter had been crushed and that the other half, and the tent, were covered by a mass of threshing leaves and branches.
Faint shouts of fear and wails of distress reached her ears above the raging of the storm. ‘Oh no! Who is hurt?’ she thought. For a moment she struggled frantically to disentangle herself from her sleeping bag and from the branches and pieces of timber which lay on her. ‘I don’t think I’m hurt,’ she thought, more worried about her brother and her friends than herself.
She managed to get to her feet. A flash of lightning revealed Peter and Stephen both groping their way to their feet amidst the wreckage. It also showed that the trunk of a massive tree lay across the clearing and onto the tent.