Another ten minutes drive had them at the beautiful little town of Yungaburra. They stopped there for morning tea at a café and as soon as she climbed out of the vehicle Tina felt the cool nip of the mountain air. Both families sat around two tables and talked while they consumed food and rink. Tina had a chocolate flavoured milk and some biscuits and was content to chatter to Sarah and to take in the local atmosphere.
Michael sat to one side and made only a couple of shy comments but young Aiden was an endless flow of questions of the why variety. At first Tina found it amusing but when it kept on she got a bit irritated. However Aiden’s engaging smile and brightness made it impossible for her to stay that way and she soon became his chief question answerer, much to the obvious relief of his parents.
The suggestion was made that some of the people swap vehicles. Tina wasn’t keen on this but then her mother swapped with Mrs Creswell and Aiden came to take her place. She ended up in the back of the Creswell’s vehicle with Michael on the right, Sarah in the middle and herself on the left.
From Atherton they drove south and up into the mountains of the Herberton Range. Tina had been there a couple of times before but had never paid any particular notice. Now she noted that the road wound up the right hand side of a deep but steadily narrowing valley. The vegetation was more open than she had expected and became a mixture of She Oaks growing on steep rocky slopes or larger trees standing in long grass.
Near the head of the valley Mr Creswell pointed to the left and said, “There is the old railway over there.”
That surprised Tina and she looked and saw the line of a bench cut on the opposite slope. She had vaguely known that there were railways on the Tablelands but did not know there had been one to Herberton. That there had been was brought home more firmly after they crossed the saddle at the pass and went down a long slope to cross the railway at a level crossing. They re-crossed it again two kilometres further on.
From then on Tina kept glancing to her left to try to get glimpses of the railway but she did not see it. What she did see was a line of rugged mountains a few kilometers away. Through a gap in the low cloud she glimpsed a very rugged knoll standing higher than any other part of the range.
“That looks rough,” she commented. “I wonder what it is called?”
Mr Creswell glanced and said, “Stewarts Head. I climbed it once, years ago, when I was a Boy Scout. It is on a long ridge that runs all the way to Herberton.”
Herberton was next, a few kilometers further on. Of particular interest to Tina was the Catholic girl’s boarding school, the Mount St Bernard Convent. She knew several girls who had been sent there and as she stared at the pile of big buildings on the hillside above the road she wondered what boarding school might be like.
The expedition did not stop in Herberton but drove on along a winding road through hills and a scattering of houses. At Wondecla they re-crossed the abandoned railway line and then went through the remnant of the ‘tall timbers’ that once clothed the whole area. Another thirty kilometers of winding roads through hills covered with either tall trees or open fields dotted with cows brought them to the town of Ravenshoe.
This was a small town with one main street and a dozen side streets. Tina was familiar with it from previous trips, the most recent being the canoe trip to Koombooloomba. Shops were open so the expedition stopped for refreshments. Tina opted for a flavoured milk and then went outside to study the town. She was joined on the footpath by the others. To Tina it all looked very sleepy and it was just cool enough to make her shiver.
“Highest town in Queensland,” her father commented in reply to her mentioning the temperature.
“And probably the coldest,” Tina added. The sky was overcast and there was a hint of drizzle and looking up at it she had a sharp flashback to the previous weekend when she had been waiting beside the dam for the ambulance. That sent a shiver through her and she shook her head and wondered how any person could possibly shoot another.
Her thoughts were interrupted by young Aiden who came running back from the end of the row of shops. He called, “Hey Dad, Mum, there’s a steam train here.”
Mr Creswell replied that he knew that but at Aiden’s urging they all had to walk to the end of the buildings to look. There was a toilet there and then a large open area. Beyond this was the old railway station and standing on the line was a blue painted steam engine. Men were busy around and on it and a feather of steam was visible issuing from some valve on top.
Aiden and Michael both wanted to go over and look. Mr Creswell looked at his watch and said they didn’t have the time but the boys were so obviously disappointed that the whole group walked across the grass to look.
“But only for five minutes,” Mr Creswell added. “We’ve got a long way to drive yet.”
“Aw Dad!”
Then the boys discovered that not only did the steam train work but that it was taking people for paid rides. “Can we please Dad!” Aiden cried.
“Sorry, not today. The train doesn’t go for another hour and that will take even more time. We are late already,” Mr Creswell said.
“Aw Dad!”
Mr Creswell sighed. “We will come here again and go for a ride on the train,” he said.
“Promise?” Michael asked.
Mr Creswell nodded. “Promise, now let’s go.”
Reluctantly the boys followed the others back to the vehicles. It was 11:25 by then and a misty drizzle was beginning. The vehicles were driven out of town on the south side and turned right at the Kennedy Highway. As they did Tina looked across the intersection and noted that it was the start of the road to Koombooloomba. That and the drizzle brought back another wave of intense memories and she shivered and thought of the ranger who was shot. Then she shivered again and wondered what death might be like.
Sarah noticed her shiver and hug herself and said, “Are you alright Tina?”
“Yes, just remembering last weekend at the dam.”
“That’s the road to the dam isn’t it?” Sarah commented.
Tina nodded. Michael turned and said, “Did you see the man get shot?”
Tina nodded again. “Yes I did,” she replied.
“Was it awful?” Michael asked.
Mrs Creswell turned in her seat and said, “That will do Michael. You don’t ask people questions like that. I’m sorry Tina.”
“It’s alright Mrs Creswell. It is probably better to talk about it,” Tina replied.
So as they sped west along the Kennedy Highway she recounted the events at Koombooloomba. As they traveled along Tina noted the sign to the Millstream Falls. That was as far west as she had ever been so she divided her attention between telling the tale and looking at the scenery. What was immediately apparent to her was a dramatic change of vegetation- from the tall timbers and rain forests of the ‘Wet Tropics’ to the open savannah woodland of the drier interior.
‘We are now in the sort of country where the Gouldian Finch lives,’ she thought, her eyes scanning the bush on both sides of the road. But she did not see one. All she saw were lots of hawks and peewees and the odd little sparrow or crow.
Midday found them at the small town of Mt Garnet. The expedition stopped there to refuel and to buy lunch and to go to the toilet. This took up another half hour and by then Tina’s mother was getting fretful about the time.
From Mt Garnet the group drove on along the Kennedy Highway, now heading almost south. The country remained savannah but the road deteriorated to a single lane of bitumen which made the journey both less safe and slower as they had to slow right down and get off onto the gravel shoulders every time they encountered another vehicle coming in the opposite direction. As much of the traffic comprised huge ore trucks with three and even four trailers the need for caution was very evident.
After three quarters of an hour of driving the vegetation changed almost instantly to a very thick tangle of bushes, trees and giant prickly pear.
“What an odd place,” Tina com
mented.
“It’s called the Forty Mile Scrub,” Mr Creswell replied.
At that moment a rest area and tourist sign came into view on the right. Michael pointed and said, “There’s a toilet. I need to go. Please stop.”
Mr Creswell pulled into the parking area and Tina’s father drove in beside them. As he did he indicated his watch but then shrugged when Mrs Creswell got out. Tina climbed out as well and stared at the wall of dense vegetation hemming them in on either side of the road. In places it was so thick that she was sure it would not be possible to push through the tangle.
“Quite spooky really,” she commented. “I’d hate to have to try to get through this bit of country.”
There was a sign explaining the vegetation which was in a small National Park. The other side of the sign explained the ‘Savannah Way’, the tourist route which ran right across northern Australia from Cairns to Western Australia. She read this with interest and decided that one day she would travel right along it.
The boys ran off along a walking track into the scrub and Tina went a little way but she found it so claustrophobic and unpleasant that she soon returned to the car park. Mr Creswell bellowed to the boys to stop playing the fool and to get back in the car. They came scurrying back and clambered in. Tina did likewise and as soon as Mrs Creswell was back aboard they resumed their journey.
After traveling for only another ten minutes they came out into open savannah woodland again and arrived at a major road junction. Here they turned right and headed west. As kilometre of bush succeeded kilometre of similar bush Tina began to tire and grow bored. The only sighting that really gripped her interest was a fleeting glimpse of some emus.
“They are becoming quite rare,” Mr Creswell commented.
“Why? Do people hunt them?” Tina asked.
“No. It is probably because feral cats eat the chicks, or maybe because of the Ten Eighty Poison baits laid for dingoes,” Mr Creswell answered.
Those ideas bothered Tina as she had somehow thought that there were lots of emus. To find that such an Australian icon was under threat concerned her and she puzzled over what could be done about it. But she kept on hopefully scanning the bush, still hoping to see a Gouldian Finch or one of the other types of rare birds that the book said lived in that environment. She described these and asked the others to also keep a sharp eye out for them. This led to a discussion on why the Gouldian Finch was endangered.
Forty five minutes of 100kph driving along a good bitumen road had the party at the railway siding of Mt Surprise. The place was a surprise to Tina as there actually was a surprising looking mountain, on of the very few around. It was rough and rugged and stood up from the mostly flat bushland a few kilometers away. The small town did not impress her. It consisted of little more than a main street and a few scattered buildings beyond and most were devoted to the travel industry.
After a visit to the toilet Tina and Sarah made their way to the nearby shop. As she walked along the grassy footpath Tina studied the railway station on the other side of the road. “Is that the same railway we saw at Herberton?” she asked.
Michael answered that, his voice full of scorn for older people who were ignorant of basic facts. “No! This railway is the one that goes west from Mareeba to Almaden.”
Feeling quite silly Tina bit her lip and nodded. Sarah asked, “So where does it go, Mr Smarty Pants?”
“Out to a little town called Forsayth,” Michael replied, pointing off to the South West.
Mrs Creswell looked at the rusty rails and grass growing along the rail track. “It doesn’t look very busy. How often do the trains run?”
“Only one train a week Mum,” Michael answered. “A tourist train called the ‘Savannalander’. It is a rail motor really.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that,” Mrs Creswell commented.
Tina had too but made no comment. Then, as she went into the shop, she saw advertisements and pictures all over the place for the train. But trains did not really interest her and she was more taken by observing a kingfisher in a nearby tree.
After some refreshments and a change of seating the party continued on its way. By then it was 2:30pm. Sarah moved to the front next to her father. Tina moved into the middle and had her mother beside her and Michael on her right.
The road was a good double lane bitumen one so the average speed was still up near 100kph. The country remained open savannah and there were more small hills and undulations that Tina had expected. She had thought that all the country was just flat and very open and dry but most of it she found to be quite normal Australian bush. She was even more surprised when a range of mountains appeared ahead after they crossed the Einasleigh River.
“Newcastle Range,” Mr Creswell informed her. Tina found them quite attractive in a rugged sort of way. ‘More like pictures I have seen of Central Australia,’ she thought as she studied the reddish rocks and yellowish grasses.
The view ahead from the top she found quite impressive. What particularly caught her eye was the flatness. Except for a few blue tinged hills in the far distance the level country seemed to extend on to the end of the earth. The sight caused Tina to experience an irrational shiver. “We are a long way out now,” she commented.
Mr Creswell looked and then laughed. “We are about half way. In fact we are now getting closer to the sea on the other side.”
It was that ‘other side’ that Tina found daunting for no obvious reason. She had never seen the Gulf of Carpentaria and had always had a vague fear of the ‘Gulf Country’ and now she was approaching it.
‘I hope everything is going to be alright,’ she thought, wondering yet again what this half mythical region of flatness and legendary fishing might be like.
CHAPTER 7
NOT WHAT SHE EXPECTED
Twenty minutes of driving through more fairly ordinary Australian bush brought them to a long concrete bridge which spanned half a kilometre of dry, white sand. ‘Etheridge River’ proclaimed a sign. On the other bank was the pleasant little town of Georgetown. Once again Tina was surprised. She thought it a nice enough little place; half a dozen streets each way with the usual petrol stations, hotel, shops, shire council offices and police station.
To look at the place they drove up and down the grid pattern streets. As they did Tina glimpsed two grey and yellow coloured parrots flit past her and into a tree in the yard of a house.
“Was that a pale headed rosella?” she cried, pointing. But it was too late. The birds were gone and she was left puzzling over what she had seen. ‘Did they have a patch of yellow on the outside of their wings or not?’ she wondered. A quick leaf through her books on birds did not help as her memory was now too uncertain. But she hoped it was and she increased her vigilance in case she saw more of them.
After ten minutes of driving around the town Mr Creswell stopped at one of the petrol stations and they all climbed out while he refueled the vehicle. Fifteen minutes later they were on their way again. This time Tina was seated in the front passenger seat. Michael sat in the back on the right, with her mother in the middle and young Aiden on the left while Mrs Creswell had replaced Mr Creswell as the driver and the two fathers were in the ‘Jackaroo’.
There was a short visit to look at an old brick chimney at Cumberford; all that remained of a rock crushing battery from a gold rush 150 years earlier. As always when she saw such places Tina marveled at the tenacity and toughness of the early pioneers who came to such out-of-the-way places without any of the comforts or medical support the modern generation took for granted.
Back on the highway and speeding west again Tina sat and stared out at the seemingly endless bush. ‘I wonder what Andrew is doing now?’ she mused. She tried not to be jealous but knew she was.
Suddenly a splatting sound drew her eyes to the windshield. What she saw made her cry out in horror. A bird had been struck and was caught in the windscreen wiper in front of her. Its eyes were open and its beak kept opening and closing. ‘A finch
,’ her mind told her while she cried, “Oh stop! Please stop!”
Mrs Creswell brought the vehicle to a standstill at the side of the road. As soon as it stopped Tina jumped out and ran to the front, only to stop in horror. It was instantly apparent to her that the bird was beyond saving as the impact had ripped it open and its entrails were stretched and spread across the front grille and bonnet. The sight of the purple and pink intestines caused her stomach to churn but she managed to keep control.
Tina’s mother joined her but Tina stubbornly persisted in doing the cleaning up. It took several tissues and half a bottle of water to wash most of the mess away and even then a few spots of blood remained in the corners of the grille.
Garth did not help when he came to look and then said, “It could have been worse. What if it had been the last one of the only pair of breeding Gouldian Finches in the world?”
That was a horrible thought to Tina and she snapped, “Don’t be awful Garth!”
Their mother joined in, saying, “Don’t tease you sister Garth. Now get back in the car.”
Tina shook her head sadly and went on cleaning. By the time she was finished the nausea had been replaced by sadness and slight shock. ‘Life is a very chancy business,’ she mused as she climbed back into the vehicle. From that came a determination to live it and to enjoy it.
The expedition resumed its journey, driving west for another two hours along a mostly deserted highway through mostly flat country covered in savannah woodland of varying density. In all that time they did not pass a single house and only a couple of dirt side roads. The only hills were a small range of low, flat–topped ones which looked big but in fact were only about 20 or 30 metres high when they were reached.
Tina stayed interested by looking for birds but only saw a few crows, many finches and a couple of plain turkeys. She kept hoping to see emus but there were none visible.
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