The Publicity Push

by Christopher Cummings

  Once again Uncle Bill looked upset. “But how will I ever face your grandmother if anything happens to you? What will I tell your mother?”

  At that Kylie sensed that Uncle Bill was weakening and she kept up the pressure. “If we start now we could be there by five O’clock this afternoon.”

  “What good will that do?” Uncle Bill said.

  Graham answered that. “They could come and get Victor and the Old Prospector with a helicopter.”

  “In this!” Uncle Bill cried, gesturing to the driving rain and low cloud.

  Graham shrugged. “We have to try.”

  Kylie agreed. “We must Uncle Bill. We can’t just sit here.”

  Uncle Bill gestured to his leg. “But I’ll never get up over those mountains with this ankle of mine.”

  “We can make it,” Graham insisted. “You stay here to look after Victor and the Old Prospector. Pete and I will be OK.”

  Uncle Bill shook his head. “No. Not just two of you. If one of you gets hurt you couldn’t just leave the injured person alone in the jungle. There must be at least four of you.”

  Kylie knew then they had won. “I’ll go,” she offered, even though she doubted if she had the strength for the ordeal.

  “So will I,” said Peter, Stephen, Roger, Bert and Margaret simultaneously.

  Uncle Bill again shook his head. “Bert, you’d better stay here in case Victor regains consciousness and needs you. I will need someone strong here anyway, to help rebuild the shelter.”

  Bert looked worried and upset. He bit his lip and nodded. “Alright.”

  Allison moved closer to him. “I’ll stay with you Bert. I don’t think I could make it over those mountains. I would just hold everyone up.”

  “That’s very sensible Allison,” Uncle Bill said. He looked at Stephen who was blinking myopically in the rain, his glasses in his pocket. “I reckon you should stay too Steve. Without your glasses in this rain you could injure yourself and hold them up.”

  Stephen looked unhappy but nodded. Uncle Bill looked at Margaret. “What about you young Marg? Do you think you can make it?”

  Margaret looked anxiously at Graham and nodded. “I can do it,” she insisted.

  Uncle Bill looked doubtful. He also glanced at Roger but, to Kylie’s relief, did not suggest he stay. She knew that would have hurt Roger’s feelings.

  “I still reckon it should be just Pete and me,” Graham said. “The others aren’t as fit and will slow us down.”

  “No,” Uncle Bill replied. “A group or nobody.”

  “Alright. Then let’s get organized and get going then,” Graham said.

  Kylie felt her spirits rise. With a groan she got to her knees and began searching through the wreckage and fluttering leaves for her belt and waterbottle. Graham and Peter lifted Victor and dragged out their webbing.

  “Have something to eat before you go,” Uncle Bill said.

  Graham shook his head. “We will never get a stove going in this. We will eat cold food while we walk.”

  Uncle Bill accepted this and said to Stephen: “Steve, let’s see if we can find a better spot to put up some sort of shelter.”

  “In the jungle there,” Graham said, pointing. “In behind the buttress roots on that big tree.”

  Kylie pulled her jacket tight around her and buckled on her belt. She dug out a packet of jelly beans and a chocolate from her pack and slipped them into her pocket. She was scared now, but relieved they were up and doing.

  Stephen and Bert set to work clearing a space in behind the base of a massive tree. That made Kylie look anxiously at the trunk of the huge tree which had fallen on them. “What if it blows over?” she asked.

  “Safer right next to it than further away,” Stephen replied. “You don’t get that whiplash effect. OK Bert, you rig the shelter while I try to get a fire going.”

  Kylie left them and joined the others who were standing in a group in the driving rain. Uncle Bill stood with them, looking haggard and miserable. “I still don’t like this,” he said. “You are sure you can do it without getting lost?”

  Graham answered. “Yes Uncle Bill. OK, if everyone is ready let’s get going. The sooner we leave the sooner we arrive.”

  “Good luck,” Uncle Bill said.

  Peter grinned and replied: “We depend on skill Uncle Bill. Cheer up. It will be OK. You just look after those two.” He indicated the collapsed shelter.

  Fired now by a burning urge to save the two injured men Kylie said goodbye and urged Graham to start walking. He turned and set off along the track towards Nugget Creek.

  “Why are we going this way?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be going uphill?”

  “Yes we should,” Graham replied, “but if we can get across Nugget Creek and go up the track to that old mine half way up the mountain we will save a lot of time.”

  Kylie saw the sense in that. It would just be a walk along the track they had already cleared. She wiped rain from her face and wished she had been able to find her hat.

  None of them had hats but all wore raincoats or jackets. Even so it was bitterly cold and they shivered as they walked. The rain lashed by the wind was the worst. It kept getting in their eyes. Wet leaves were continually blown against them, sticking to their skin and causing them to squint and shield their eyes. They also had to climb over several trees that had been blown down and lay across the track. This was difficult and unpleasant as the bark was wet and slippery.

  Nugget Creek was the first real obstacle. It was a raging torrent and a moment’s glance was enough to show that they could not safely cross. Graham shrugged and took out his secateurs. “Oh well, nothing for it but a bit of good old jungle bashing.”

  “I think the cyclone is doing that for us,” Peter said cheerfully. He managed a smile for Kylie and took out his own secateurs. “You navigate Graham, and I will go first,” he said.

  The climb up the mountain began. Just on 8am, Kylie noted.

  CHAPTER 31

  THE RIDGE

  The climb up the ridge was the hardest thing Kylie had ever done in her whole life. She knew, even as they began the ordeal, that the experience would be fixed in her mind indelibly. It wasn’t just the steepness of the slope; or the stiff pace Graham set, which soon had them all gasping; it was the storm. That really made it a grim and frightening event.

  After the first few hundred metres, which rose gradually, the ridge went steeply up into the racing clouds and driving rain. At the angle they were climbing the wind howled in from behind them so that there was no way they could get into any sort of a lee. They had to drag themselves up the slope exposed to the full fury of the storm.

  As they got up above the level of the tree canopy in the bottom of the valley the wind increased dramatically in strength. The trees shook and flailed and leaves and sticks whirled and slashed around them. Kylie quickly began to doubt if it was possible to go on safely. During one of their frequent halts she voiced this.

  Graham shook his head impatiently and yelled back: “Of course it’s not bloody safe! But what other option is there? I’m not going to just sit and wait till two people die.”

  Put like that Kylie could only nod and agree. It was how she had felt. Now, confronted by the reality, she was truly terrified. They resumed their upward movement. Surface runoff gushed back down the slope and the rain continued unabated as a torrential downpour which wet everything. It made the trees slippery to grip and everyone in the group had dozens of stumbles and slips. And every ten or twenty paces they encountered a tree that had been blown over and had to clamber over it.

  Graham went as fast as he could and he and Peter soon drew ahead. After a while the pair stopped and looked back. “Hurry up!” Graham shouted.

  Anger flared in Kylie. “No! You slow down a bit and help us. We must stay together,” she screamed, her voice barely audible as it was snatched away by the howling wind.

  For a moment brother and sister glared at each other. It was Margaret who came between t
hem. “Where are we on the map? Have we come far?”

  Graham turned his back on the wind, crouched down then took out his map and showed her. “About here. We have come one kilometre and climbed a couple of hundred metres.” The wind was so strong he had to grip the folded map tightly.

  Kylie was going to say ‘Is that all?’, but she bit it back. Inside she was dismayed. She already felt worn out. ‘That means thirteen kilometres and hundreds of metres to climb,’ she thought. Her doubts increased.

  To her credit Margaret only nodded, although she looked very pale and drawn. She was so white her freckles stood out starkly. When Graham resumed climbing she went behind him and Kylie followed her. Roger came last, gamely puffing up the hill.

  As they got higher up the slope the jungle gave way to more open bush which was easier to negotiate. However the slope became ever steeper. Kylie found it a real effort to push herself up. She found her heart thudding rapidly and her breath came in hot gasps. After a time her legs felt like lead and she felt dizzy. The only positive thing she could think of was that she wasn’t as cold.

  Most were so unfit they had to stop every hundred paces. During the halts they huddled behind rocks or trees and shivered in the wind. The rain felt like ice. Kylie saw that Roger was really gasping and she wondered if they had made a real mistake. ‘Maybe Graham and Peter should go on alone?’ she wondered.

  At one point they got a view out along the valley. Kylie found it both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The mountains were shrouded in racing cloud and driving rain. The river could be clearly seen through gaps in the showers. It showed up as a white and caramel streak through the grey-green jungle.

  Peter gestured back along the valley. “I wonder if those two blokes are still clinging to their rock?” he said.

  Graham shrugged. “Who cares? Serves the bastards right,” he said. Kylie found herself torn emotionally over that. Part of her agreed with her brother’s callous comment, but mostly she just felt a feeling of sick dread.

  They resumed their upward struggle. The slope became so steep that they had to haul themselves from tree to tree. Their hands and boots slipped continually and it seemed they went up only one step for every two they took. Behind her Kylie could hear Roger’s gasping breath even above the howl of the wind. She glanced back to see how he was getting on. At that moment he was hauling himself up over a rock and she distinctly saw a look of genuine agony cross his face. However he managed a sickly grin as he stood panting on top, clinging to a tree for support.

  On upwards they struggled. They had to climb over or around dozens of fallen trees and half a dozen times a tree or branch fell near them, causing hearts to palpitate in fright. The wind became ever stronger and seemed to press them down. They had to cling on as they climbed. At on point Kylie got a clear view across the re-entrant on the left. The whole of the mountainside appeared to be shimmering. She realized it was from millions of leaves and branches flickering and twisting in the wind.

  The view puzzled her and she thought that the forest looked different. ‘Bare. I can see more branches and tree trunks,’ she decided. Then she realized that the wind was stripping the trees of their leaves. The whole spectacle was so dramatic it helped ease the gnawing fear that was chewing at her insides.

  They continued climbing in slow, painful stages, halting to recover their breath frequently. At 9:30 they stopped in the shelter of several large boulders and Kylie was amazed what a relief it was to be out of the wind and rain, even temporarily. By then she was feeling battered, dazed and chilled.

  It took a real effort of will power to force themselves out of that safe haven back into the tempest. Soon after that they almost lost Roger. There was a rending crack, then a tree came crashing down. It all happened too fast for Kylie to even jump aside. She found herself surrounded by leaves and a branch whipped her face and shoulder savagely. Roger went down under the tangle.

  For a ghastly moment Kylie thought they would have another serious casualty to care for; and in the worst possible place. However Roger struggled to his knees and shook his head. He rubbed at his shoulder and left arm and looked badly frightened.

  “Are you alright?” Kylie yelled in his ear.

  Roger nodded. “I think so. Just a bit bruised.”

  “You’ve hurt your face,” she said. Blood showed on his left cheek. Roger put a hand to it and looked at the blood, even as the driving rain washed it away.

  “Hit my face on a rock. I’m alright,” Roger insisted.

  They continued on upwards. Kylie found her knees and leg muscles complaining and cramping. But she had all gotten her ‘second wind’ by then and settled down to a steady plod which kept her moving slowly upwards. She was able to keep up.

  At 10am they entered the cloud. From then on all they could see was the area a few metres around them. Cloud and rain hid everything else. The ridge became steeper and narrower and that allowed the wind to swirl and eddy in vicious cross-currents which made it difficult to stand. The wind also whipped branches into their faces and made it even more dangerous and unpleasant. Several times thin branches whipped across Kylie’s eyes, leaving her blinking in pain, fearful she had suffered permanent eye damage. Luckily the pain went away and the blurriness cleared after a few frightening minutes.

  Peter found some more rocks for them to rest behind and they huddled together, relieved to be out of the savage wind for even a few seconds. Kylie pressed herself back against the wet rock and marvelled at the sheer speed and savagery of the wind. Leaves, branches and sand were all flying past, abrading their skin and getting in their clothes, mouth and eyes.

  They had a drink and Peter insisted they all eat some chocolate. “You need the energy,” he shouted. “And keep eating jelly beans, one every few minutes. The sugar will give you raw energy to boost you up the hill.”

  “Just fatten me up and make it harder than ever,” Roger moaned. He looked grey and drawn.

  “Rot!” Peter replied. “Sugar is a carbohydrate, not a fat.” He proceeded to lecture Roger on the food groups.

  Kylie stopped this by asking: “How much further? We must be nearly at the top surely?”

  Graham studied his map, nearly having it plucked from his grasp by a sudden swirl of wind. “I think we are.”

  Margaret was slumped against him. She shook her head. “I hope so. I don’t think I can go on much further.”

  That was a worry. Kylie began to wonder how they might cope if someone broke down or was injured. They were now in just about the most inaccessible place in all of North Queensland. ‘Maybe Uncle Bill was right?’ she thought unhappily.

  Graham took Margaret’s hand and hauled her to her feet, then went on up the slope, holding her hand and helping her. The sight of that sent a warm feeling through Kylie. Otherwise she was just feeling absolutely exhausted and numb from the constant battering. With a groan she hoisted herself up and followed.

  After that came several false crests. At each one their hopes rose that they were on top of the main ridge. The disappointments were all the sharper when they found they weren’t. Kylie cheered herself up by noting that the vegetation was changing to She Oak forest and short grass studded with grass trees. She knew these grew on the higher slopes.

  Suddenly they were there. They found the ground plummeting away in front of them with the main ridge running of to right and left as far as they could see in the swirling clouds. Through a gap in the clouds they glimpsed another large valley with another jungle covered slope beyond.

  “Butchers Creek,” Graham cried, pointing down to the thread of white which seamed the jungle at the bottom of the valley. “Come on. We only have to follow this ridge now for about twelve kilometres.”

  Kylie was dismayed. So was Margaret. She said: “Are you saying we have only come two kilometres?”

  Graham nodded, then shouted: “Yes, but that is the worst part over. From now on it is just along the top of this ridge.”

  “Have a rest first,” Kylie insisted
.

  They made their way thankfully over the slope into the lee of the ridge and slumped on the wet grass. Graham would not let them sit for more than a couple of minutes however.

  “We must keep moving. It is ten thirty already and we must make it before dark.”

  “I don’t think I can!” Margaret wailed. “I’m getting cramps.”

  “All the more reason to keep moving,” Graham said. “If your muscles go cold they will stiffen up. Come on.”

  He urged them up and got them moving. Kylie stumbled numbly along behind Margaret as they set off along the ridge. There might have been a track once but there was no real sign of one now so they just walked on the downwind side of the slope, the wind and rain slashing and swirling just over their heads. What now frightened Kylie the most was the way all the trees were bending over their heads, their tops and branches flailing in the wind. Already dozens of trees had been blown over and almost all of them lay across their route, necessitating frequent and very wearing detours.

  The vegetation changed back to rainforest and that withstood the force of the storm better, even if it was harder to move through. The trend of the ridge was still upwards, with steep little knolls that slowed and wore them down. Kylie tried to keep her spirits up by telling herself they were getting closer to the farm with every step. Graham encouraged Margaret. “We are up about six hundred metres. We are nearly at the level of the Tablelands.”

  That was heartening. The jungle however baffled them for a while. From time to time they followed gaps which might have been an old track but much of the time it was just a slow plod with the boys at the front snipping vines and wait-a-while. The only good thing was that the jungle gave some protection from the driving wind.

  Graham had his compass out now and was counting paces. Kylie could see his lips moving and the look of intense concentration on his face. She knew that if they took a wrong turn on one of the many knolls they could waste a lot of time and energy retracing their steps. Twice this happened and once they tried to get back on the right spur by cutting across the top of a jungle choked re-entrant. This wasted ten minutes each time and reduced Graham to fury. Several times he lost his temper and struggled like a mad thing to force a passage through the ensnaring saplings and vines.