by Tony McKenna
A blazing sun fried the rescuers at the shaft mouth. Wind whipped sand into their eyes but there was no complaint from them and it didn’t halt their grim determination to reach the trapped miner far below the baked surface. Shaun Logan suggested to the boys that they should return to their dugout to escape the heat, as they could do no more than they had already done, but they refused, saying they would wait until Bruno was found.
The day edged toward dusk and the searchers battled on. It seemed like tons of earth and rock had been hauled from the pit as the pile of rubble beside the shaft grew higher. As each shift of workers came to the surface caked in dust and sweat they just shook their heads despairingly. The priest was disturbed that if the miner was found, his condition could shock the boys as the chance of him being alive was remote and injuries from tons of rock would be horrific so he determined he would stay to shield them as best he could from any trauma.
As darkness blanketed the scene the generator was started, flooding the area with glaring light that gave a surreal atmosphere to the drama being played out, as if the rescuers were actors on a stage, except this was not a play …this plot was real.
The men were exhausted and robotic in their actions. Reynold had given up watching them to walk back to the nine-mile but Jack and Harry stayed, keeping silent vigil beside Shaun Logan. The man directing the rescue attempt, Jim Leslie, the owner of a large mechanised mine that had supplied most of the equipment, came to where they were sitting. Taking a long swig from a waterbag he wiped his mouth with the back of a hand. ‘I don’t want to be pessimistic but there’s little hope that Bruno will be found alive. Sorry, lads, but we have to be realistic.’
Shaun Logan, glancing at Jack and Harry, protested that there was always hope until the search proved otherwise.
‘You’re right, Shaun, and we haven’t given up hope but …’ Leslie looked at the boys, weighing his next words, ‘… we have to face facts. I’m not gonna hold your hopes up and then have you let down. You blokes …’ He spoke directly to Jack and Harry. ‘… have done a fine job. Without you there would be no rescue effort happening at all and I’m sure you’re mature enough, from what I’ve seen of you, to accept the possibility that he hasn’t made it.’
He turned to Logan. ‘No use pretending, Shaun, you better get these young men home. We’ll call ’round to them as soon as any news breaks.’ He walked purposefully back to the shaft.
In a daze, the boys let the priest lead them to where his car was parked. Harry got into the back seat and Jack opened the front passenger door but stood looking back at the scene for some seconds before he moved to enter the car. Slipping onto the front seat he was closing the door when men started running to the shaft head as a shout went up. ‘We’ve got him!’
Paddy had a window seat. He stared into the darkness as the train sped toward Pt Augusta and as he had never been to South Australia he was imagining what it must be like in Coober Pedy. He had of course, heard tales of the town and its rough-hewn inhabitants and wondered how Jack and Harry would be faring in such an alien environment. He was looking forward to seeing the two small boys again, final y admitting to himself that part of his decision to leave Kalgoorlie was to see that they came to no harm.
Paddy had had what he termed a ‘marginal’ childhood. Born in County Corke, Ireland, the fourth son of a struggling village baker, he had left home at the age of twelve, unable to win his father’s love or approval for anything he did. Working for a time on the docks he developed a passion for Irish whisky and gambling that had seen him have many highs, but mainly lows, in his life. His mother had been a wisp of a woman and his memories of her were vague, as she seemed to be alternately always weeping or praying … or both.
He knew he looked like his mother, who was small of stature. He had inherited her flaming red hair and blue eyes although Paddy’s hair was now streaked with grey and had lost its lustre. The legacy he got from his father was a sense of humour and a ‘devil may care’ attitude to life. Migrating to Australia he had tried a number of ventures, including prospecting around the goldfields where he made a few finds to finance his penchant for gambling but there was a wanderlust in his bones and he could never settle down to anything substantial. He had a number of ‘associates’ but only one friend, Timothy O’Malley.
When he had met the boys on the train there was something about their naive determination that had reminded him of when he had left the bosom of his family to discover life. He felt he could be of assistance to them in some way and it never occurred to Paddy that it was he who was searching for acceptance and the need to be part of a family.
Opening the Gladstone bag that was beside him he rifled through the contents, humbled that Father O’Malley had taken the time to select some things to make his trip and stay in Coober Pedy more comfortable. The shirts, although not new, were washed and neatly ironed, no doubt by Mrs Lacey, the housekeeper. There was also a pair of grey twill trousers and Paddy wondered how they would fit him as Timothy O’Malley was a much taller man than Paddy but when he held them up, much to the interest of his fellow passengers, he saw they would be almost perfect. He realised that they must have come from Mrs Lacey and speculated for a moment what her husband would say when he discovered a pair of his pants missing. There were socks, three pair of new underpants, and half a dozen handkerchiefs. Then his hand felt something hard at the bottom of the bag. Knowing instinctively what it was he said half aloud, ‘Timothy, it’s a friend indeed that ye are.’ He took the bottle from the bag.
Paddy remembered the envelope he had been given. He took it from his coat pocket, turning it over thoughtfully wondering what was in it. Probably just a letter for the lads, he thought and placed it at the bottom of the bag for safekeeping. He uncorked the bottle and, taking a swig from it, he noticed the disdainful look from the woman seated opposite. ‘Hello there, m’lovely.’ Paddy held the bottle out. ‘Would you like to be joinin’ me then in a little celebratory drink? … No? Oh well then … all the more for Paddy. Cheers!’
The woman turned several shades of red and snapped her head back to the book she had been reading, never looking in Paddy’s direction again for the entire trip. Relaxing back in the padded train seat he closed his eyes and, listening to the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, wondered what the two boys were doing at that moment before he drifted off to sleep, the bottle clasped securely on his lap.
‘They’ve found him!’ became the catch cry as men ran to the shaft mouth. Jim Leslie stood beside the windlass. ‘Stand back!’ He shouted firmly. ‘We don’t know much yet, other than that they seem to have broken through the rock and reached Bruno.’
Jack burst from the car before the priest could stop him and ran full pelt to the shaft. ‘Mister Leslie … is he all right?’
‘Settle down, son.’ The man placed a firm restraining hand on Jack’s chest. ‘Best you wait back by the car.’
Jack was determined to stay and, resisting the man’s attempts to turn him back to Harry and the priest who were standing off at a distance, he moved away a few feet so as not to interfere with the men at the shaft mouth. A dust-caked face appeared at the top of the ladder, white in the glare of the spotlights. ‘We broke through,’ he gasped, ‘we found him.’
‘How is he?’ Jim Leslie placed himself between the man and Jack when he asked the question.
‘Blood miracle it is.’ The man climbed from the ladder. ‘Seems like Bruno was working at the drive face when the roof caved in behind him, cutting him off and leaving him in about four or five feet of tunnel. Not a scratch on him but he’d passed out from lack of air by the time we got to him. He’s come to, now that air’s gettin’ to him, but he’s mumblin’ like a madman. Pretty shook up too.’
‘You mean he’s not hurt? Not at all?’ Leslie was astounded.
‘Like I said … not a scratch on him but I think he’s lost his mind.’ The rescuer shook his head touching the tip of his finger to his temple. ‘When he came to he yelled at us to get
out of his mine! Can you bloody well believe it?’
‘Yes, I can actually,’ Leslie replied. ‘I think I’d go a bit mad too if I was trapped forty feet underground, believing I was going to die there and just waiting in pitch dark silence for the air to run out.’
‘Yeah, suppose so. He’s clutchin’ a rock or somethin’ and won’t let anyone see it or touch it. Keeps yellin’, ‘Itsa mine, itsa mine!’
Bruno was brought up from his tomb, the bright lights blinding him. A man on each side held him upright as his legs wouldn’t hold him as they half dragged, half carried him to the shelter where a nursing sister was waiting to examine him. Jack and Harry were stunned to see their friend. His eyes were wide open and staring like a frightened animal, his lips moved constantly, mouthing silent words; and his arms were folded tightly against his chest shielding some unseen object.
The men eventually forced him to lie on the stretcher so the nurse could look him over but they couldn’t get his arms from his chest. Whenever they tried, Bruno would start writhing and screaming, ‘Itsa mine! Itsa mine!’ and looking wildly about him without focusing.
The nurse held a needle to the light, squirted a small amount of liquid from the tip, and then plunged it unceremoniously into Bruno’s upper arm. He gave no indication that he had felt the needle and continued staring at imagined foes. When the sedative took affect, his muscles relaxed, his head lolled to one side and he closed his eyes. The nurse unfolded his arms and gasped when she saw what Bruno had been protecting.
‘Good heavens! Will you look at that?’ Jim Leslie reached down and took the rock from Bruno’s chest.
It was shaped roughly in the image of Australia, about five inches thick and a foot long and nobody could miss the vibrant colours highlighted by the generator-driven lights. Miners stood staring in reverent awe at the stone that Leslie passed to the priest. ‘This is what he almost died for. You better keep it safe for him, Father. I’ll leave a couple of my men on guard overnight to make sure no moonlighters decide to go down the shaft to see if there’s more opal like Bruno found.’
‘Nobody would go down after a cave-in, would they?’ Jack asked. ‘Not until they knew it was safe?’
Jim Leslie smiled. ‘You just never know, son. You can trust the blokes involved in the rescue but when the word’s out about what Bruno found, rats will surface and risking their life for a fortune is nothing to them.’
Jack and Harry stood beside the priest, mesmerised by the size of the opal, as the stretcher was lifted onto the back of a utility and Bruno was driven off to the medical centre. They didn’t speak, lost for words at the miracle of Bruno being found alive and the opal he had found, as they drove with Shaun Logan from the now almost deserted mine. As the car bounced onto the track leading to town, the generator was switched off and darkness fell over the shaft, the mine, and the two men remaining on guard.
The priest insisted that the two boys come back with him to his place for a bath and a cooked dinner. They didn’t realise he was nervous about minding the opal overnight and would welcome their company. They were too exhausted to argue but said they needed to let Reynold know that Bruno had been found. Stopping by their claim they told him the news but he declined the priest’s invitation to join them for a meal. Harry carried a calico bag that contained some opal pieces and had their cash bundled safely beneath his shirt and Shaun Logan was comforted when Jack returned to the vehicle carrying his rifle. They trusted Reynold but they knew it made him nervous to be left minding their riches so didn’t want him to have the responsibility.
The meal was simple at the priest’s house: lamb chops with mashed potatoes and tinned peas, but to the boys it was a sumptuous banquet. Relaxed from a hot bath, something they had not experienced for many months, having to tub up in a bucket, they were drowsy and Shaun Logan suggested they stay the night. ‘We can go to the first-aid post in the morning to see how Bruno is.’ The boys didn’t argue.
Alice Ferguson performed her now nightly ritual before going to bed. Kneeling beside the bed she placed her elbows on the eiderdown and asked God to protect her boy and bring him home safely. She had never been ‘religious’ and didn’t attend church but had a belief in God and since Jack had gone, she prayed a simple prayer every night. She found some comfort in believing that God knew where her son was and could see him as she prayed which made her feel closer to Jack. ‘If only I could hold him,’ she prayed softly, not wanting to disturb her husband who didn’t believe that a god even existed.
Even though they were exhausted, when Jack and Harry went to bed in Father Logan’s tiny spare bedroom they found it difficult to sleep as the events of the day whirled through their minds. When Jack closed his eyes he could still see the glare of the lights and the frantic rescue efforts. His hands were bruised and sore from tearing at the rocks and his legs ached so he switched on the light. ‘You awake, Harry?’
‘Yeah, I can’t sleep. What a day? Do you think Bruno’ll be alright, he seemed a bit crazy?’
‘At least he’s still alive, Harry. I thought he was a goner, didn’t you?’
‘Makes ya stop and think, eh? It could have been us down there when that roof caved in ya know.’
‘Don’t want to think about that, Harry. I’m amazed at Reynold, though; he worked like a demon down there even though he hates bein’ underground.’
‘He’s a good mate. Everyone was surprised when I went for help and said that Reynold was with you back in the drive tryin’ to reach Bruno.’
‘Didn’t take ya long to get help, Harry.’
‘The first blokes I told jumped into their truck and raced into town. Before long there was a stream of vehicles and men headin’ out. Took and hour or so though.’
Jack was amazed that it had been over an hour that he and Reynold had furiously clawed at the rocks. It had seemed like only minutes. The two boys were quiet for a while each locked in thought.
‘Jack … do ya ever miss home?’
‘Of course I do, Harry. I just don’t talk about it that’s all.’
‘Me neither, but I do miss it. Do ya think we’ll ever get back there one day?’
‘Yeah … one day I guess.’
‘It’d be good to see everyone again wouldn’t it, Jack?’ He patted the mattress. ‘Sleep in a proper bed, eat good tucker.’
‘I miss the water, Harry. There’s no bloody water around here or tall trees. It’d be great to go down the creek, catch a coupla yabbies … go for a swim.’
‘A swim? Wow! How about a day at the beach?’
‘There are a few things I miss out here, Harry, apart from the family.’
‘Like what?’
‘Well …’ Jack propped himself up on an elbow. ‘Girls for one. There are no girls out here.’
‘Girls?’ Harry stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. ‘Yeah … I suppose so. Never really thought about girls much but now that ya mention it I haven’t seen any around.’
‘Do ya know what I miss the most though, Harry?’
‘What’s that, Jack?’
‘Promise ya won’t laugh?’
‘Of course I won’t, mate. What do ya miss the most?’
‘Mum’s hugs.’ He turned out the light.
Chapter Thirty
‘You awake, lads?’ Shaun Logan pushed the curtain aside and peered into the room to find both beds empty. He was surprised but then realised that they probably woke up before dawn every morning. He found them outside and smiled when he saw they had found his old bat and were playing two-man cricket, using the wall of the dugout for a backstop.
‘You blokes play cricket, I see.’
‘Haven’t for ages,’ Harry replied as he bowled a spinner at Jack who returned it expertly. ‘We used to play regular at home.’
‘There’s a couple of teams here you know. We’re a bit rough around the edges but enjoy a get-together now and then. Maybe you could join in. We could certainly do with a couple of good hands.’
‘Maybe,’ Harry said
as Jack walked up to them, swinging the bat at imaginary balls.
‘That’s my spare bat,’ the priest said, ‘and there are two or three old worn-out balls about the place. Why don’t you take ’em back with you and have a hit now and then. You can’t just work all day, every day you know.’
‘Thanks, we will, eh, Jack?’
‘Yeah, be good fun. We could even teach Reynold a few of the finer points.’ He laughed thinking how Reynold would take to cricket.
‘I suppose you miss kids your own age to mess around with? What made you come out here?’ Shaun Logan asked, then saw the closed expressions shadow their eyes and knew he had innocently touched on a sensitive issue. He quickly changed the subject. ‘Let’s grab a bite of brekky before we head off to see how Bruno is.’
Both boys were quiet while they ate and the priest wondered what it was that had brought these two young boys from Perth to Coober Pedy. He was curious as to how they knew Father O’Malley but refrained from asking any questions, knowing that a man’s business was his own, especially out here in the opal fields. Even though the boys were young in years they had proved a maturity many older men had yet to achieve. When the time is right, he thought, they’ll tell me.
They drove in Logan’s car toward the medical centre but on the way the priest pulled up at a building that had a sign out the front clearly marked, ‘POLICE STATION.’ As he parked the car and switched off the motor he noticed the nervous looks on the boys’ faces that fuelled his curiosity further but he made no comment.
‘I’m going to leave Bruno’s opal with the sergeant.’ Shaun Logan stepped from the car with the stone wrapped in a small blanket. ‘I don’t want the responsibility of looking after this. It’s too valuable so I’ll let the police mind it for Bruno. Won’t be a minute.’
